


Black Tie Affair

by Moit



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Editor Derek, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death, Playboy, Polish Stiles Stilinski, Polyamory, Porn Magazines, Relationship Negotiation, Slow Burn, Sterek endgame, Stiles Stilinski Speaks Polish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 01:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 54,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3958549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moit/pseuds/Moit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sort of a <i>Girls Next Door</i>/Playboy-Teen Wolf fusion. Derek is basically Hugh Hefner, living in the Hale Mansion with his Partners. He is the owner of the uber successful magazine, Halefire, which was started by his mother. He took over after her untimely death. </p><p>Stiles goes for a job interview and unexpectedly gets invited to live in the Mansion and become one of Derek's Partners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome, Stiles

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fusion, not a crossover, so you don't need to know anything about Playboy or Hugh Hefner to understand this fic. I'll fill in the gaps. I've also taken the liberty to change some things because this is _inspired by_ , but not a recreation of Hef and the requirements of being a girlfriend. (Hence, some of the "rules" are different.) 
> 
> That being said: Derek makes his quick decision in true Hugh Hefner style.
> 
> I'll add tags as we go, so the rating may change. If I'm missing something, please let me know. 
> 
> Speshul thanks to Naemi, as always, for the beta.

Parked in his car at the front gate in of the Hale Mansion, Stiles fidgeted nervously as he waited for someone to respond to his call.

"Hale Mansion, how can I help you?" 

"Hi, uh, my name is Stanisław Stilinski. I'm here for an interview." 

He waited for what felt like a full fifteen minutes, during which time he had convinced himself that they lost his application and his name was no longer on the list. 

"Thank you for your patience, Mr. Stilinski. Please pull into the driveway and go right in." 

"Thanks!" Stiles called as the heavy iron gate opened to allow him access. 

Up close, the Mansion loomed dark and imposing. Stiles had only ever seen it in pictures; it looked so much bigger in person. 

He took a deep breath and opened the unlocked front door like the person on the intercom had told him to do. The foyer was empty. All he could see was a glimpse of the rooms branching off in all directions and a grand, sweeping staircase. 

"This is awkward," he muttered to himself, clasping his hands behind his back. 

He wasn't standing there very long when Derek Hale himself came strolling down the stairs looking like sex on legs. Stiles had tried not to get his hopes up that he would even get a glimpse of the magazine mogul, and here he was in the flesh, looking casual in jeans and a black suit jacket with no tie. 

Striding across the room, he gave Stiles a tight grin. "Derek Hale. Pleased to meet you." 

"Stanisław Stilinski, but please, call me Stiles." 

"Stanisław? That's an interesting name."

"It was my grandfather's name."

"Why don't you have a seat?" Derek said, leading him into the dining room. "Can I get you something to drink?" 

"No, thank you." 

"Well, let me start off by saying you have a unique look. I like that. I'd like to see more of your work, but we'll take things one at a time." 

"Uh--okay," Stiles said. It was an odd way to start off an interview, but he'd always heard that the Hales were . . . eccentric. 

"Do you have any questions before we start?" 

Stiles wracked his brain. He had a ton of questions swimming in there, but the one that made it to the surface was, "How soon would I start?" 

Derek looked at him appraisingly. "That depends on how things go today. We'll do some tests, see how you look under the lighting, and then I'll have a better idea of how you might look on film." 

"Wait--film?" 

"Yes," Derek said slowly. "We'll do a test shoot today, and pending how that goes, we can set up a proper photoshoot for your spread. This could take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks, and then you probably won't show up in the magazine for at least six months after that. I thought you had done this before?" 

The storm in Stiles' head was about to break. "Whoa, hold on! I thought I was here to interview for a job in the _kitchen_." 

Derek frowned. "You're not here to test?" 

"No!" Stiles had the decency to look scandalized. "Do I _look_ like a model?" Instantly, he regretted that statement, even though he'd never thought of himself as model material. He was just tall and gangly and so so clumsy. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hale, I didn't mean to waste your time." He stood up. "I think actually Alan is waiting for me. Could show me to the kitchen? I'm sorry about the misunderstanding." 

"I wouldn’t call this a misunderstanding, depending on how you look at it." 

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut. "Please do not tell me you'd like me to take off my clothes for money. My dad's heart couldn't handle seeing my junk hanging out in some magazine. Not that _Halefire_ is just some magazine. I mean, it's a perfectly respectable publication. I read it. Sometimes." He edged toward the door. "I'm just gonna go now. Sorry again." 

"Stiles, how would you like to be my new Partner?" Derek asked, his eyes softening. 

"Um, like your live-in partner?" The Hale partners were gorgeous and well-known. And they weren't just eye candy--even though Derek wore them like accessories. Many of them went on to have successful careers in film and television. Stiles' throat constricted. It would be no hardship to sleep with a guy like Derek Hale, but he'd be giving up his freedom until their "relationship" ended. Still . . . 

"Can I think about it?" 

"Don't keep me waiting." Derek reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a plain white card with a number printed on it. "That's my private phone. The only person who answers it is me. And if you give that number to anyone, Stiles, I will destroy you." 

Stiles' fingers closed around the card. He knew Derek wasn't kidding. 

 

He called Scott as soon as he got home. 

"Dude. Remember that interview I told you I got at the Hale mansion?" 

"Yeah? Did you get the job?" 

"Derek Hale asked me to be his Partner." 

"So, when do you move in?" 

"Well, I haven't said 'yes,' yet." 

"What are you waiting for? Hang up and call him! Stiles, you cannot say no to Derek Hale!"

Stiles made a noise of displeasure. "Well, I'm just . . . there are things . . . I'm thinking about." 

"Like what?" 

"Like . . . like what the guidelines are, or whatever?" 

"What does it matter? Who cares if he wants you to run around in a speedo. May I repeat that this is _Derek Hale_? When are you ever going to get another opportunity like this?" 

Stiles let out a loud sigh. "Fine. But I'm calling him tomorrow. I don't want him to think I'm overeager." 

 

The phone rang and rang and rang. Stiles almost hung up because he was afraid Derek wouldn't answer. Before he managed to lose his nerve, someone picked up on the other line. 

"This is Derek." 

"Hi--hey, uh, this is Stiles. We met yesterday?" 

"Ahh." Derek's entire tone changed from business to seduction. "Do you have an answer for me?" 

"Yeah. I mean, yes, I'll, uh, move in with you. In your Mansion. Where you live." 

"I'll tell the staff to expect you tomorrow morning at 9 a.m." Derek hung up before Stiles had a chance to ask any questions. 

Stiles stared down at his cellphone. "Well, this is certainly going to be an adventure." 

 

Despite the traffic, Stiles managed to arrive at the Mansion five minutes to 9. One of the butlers met him at the door to take his car keys. 

Stiles handed them over reluctantly. "Be careful with her, okay? She sticks between first and second." 

The butler nodded. "Your car will be washed and parked in the garage. Should you need it, just let one of us know, and we'll bring it around." 

Another butler--this one identical to the first, making Stiles think he was seeing double--led him upstairs to the room that would be his.

"I don't know how I'll avoid getting lost in here," Stiles said as they passed door after door.

"Once you've been here for a few days, you'll get used to it. The layout is fairly straightforward. The left wing is used primarily for business, and the right wing is personal living quarters. If you get lost, any of the butlers will be happy to assist you." 

The only people Stiles saw along the way were Mansion staff; there was no sign of Derek or his other Partners. They arrived at a nondescript door that looked exactly like all the others down the hall. 

"This is your room." 

"Can I, like, scratch an 'x' into it so I know it's mine?" Stiles said jokingly. 

The butler's face remained impassive. "Would you like me to hang something on the door for you?"

Stiles' eyes widened in surprise. "You'd actually do that for me? There isn't, like, a decor regulation, or something?" 

"As long as you are in the Mansion, the decoration of your room is entirely up to you. That includes the outside of the door. What would you like me to hang?" 

Stiles thought about it for a moment. "Could you hang up something with the Mets on it? They're my favorite team." 

"Absolutely." The butler nodded. "Do you need anything else?" 

Stiles shook his head. "I think I'm good." 

"Very well." 

The butler opened the door to reveal a room with a big bed with white and black blankets. It also housed black lacquer dressers, floor to ceiling curtains, and an en suite bathroom.

The butler left Stiles' suitcases next to the bed. 

"If you need anything else, just call." 

He was gone before Stiles could ask how to do that. 

"Well, this is cozy," he said to himself, sitting down on the bed. 

A moment later, someone knocked on his door. 

"Come in!" Stiles called. 

A pretty brunette opened the door and gave him a wide smile. "Hi," she said, "I'm Allison, one of Derek's Partners." 

"I'm Stiles," he replied, shoving his hands deeply into his pockets. 

"Well, I wanted to introduce myself and give you an 'orientation,' so to speak. Since you're Derek's Partner now, there are just a few rules you're going to have to follow. They're not big, and we all follow them." She handed him a printed sheet of paper. 

_1\. Weekly allowance of $2,000; anything beyond that must be approved by Derek_  
_2\. Use of any of the vehicles in garage #2, but they must be checked out with Alan_  
_3\. Curfew is 9 p.m. unless with Derek or with special permission_  
_4\. Attend all functions with Derek_  
_5\. Can be asked to move out or have the choice to move out at any time_  
_6\. Violation of the rules can result in removal from Mansion_

"Do you have any questions?" Allison asked.

"No . . . I think that's pretty cut and dry." He was excited about the prospect of the weekly allowance and use of the cars, but in exchange, he was sort of Derek's indentured servant. 

"Great!" Allison smiled again, this time showing off her dimples. "Then, I just need to have you sign this copy." 

Stiles eyed the paper and pen she held out warily. "This isn't going to get me into legal trouble, or something, is it?" 

Allison shook her head. "No, it's just a written agreement that ensures that you're free to leave should you or Derek choose to dissolve the relationship." 

"Is your day job working as an attorney?" 

"No, I just like to welcome the new Partners. You won't get your first allowance until Friday. If you need anything before that, just let Derek know." 

Stiles nodded. "So how long have you been here?" 

"Just over a year. You'll meet the others at the luncheon this afternoon." 

"There's a luncheon?"

"Oh, yes, sorry. It's sort of a welcome luncheon that we have any time we get a new Partner. It starts at noon, so you'll need to be downstairs by 11:30 for pictures. Make sure you wear something nice. If you need help with that--or anything, really--just pick up your phone and hit 0. That will send you directly to the butlers' phone, and they'll get you anything you need." 

"Okay," Stiles nodded slowly. "Got it." 

"Any questions?" 

"I'm sure I'll have a ton." 

"Well, like I said, just press 0 on the phone." 

Allison left with a smile and a wave. 

 

At 10:05, Stiles had finished unpacking, checked out the balcony that looked out over the front of the mansion grounds, and put his toothbrush on the sink.

He picked up the phone and dialed 0. 

"This is Ennis." 

"Ennis, uh, this is Stiles, Derek's new Partner?" 

"How can I help you, Stiles?" 

"Um, I don't have anything to wear for the luncheon today. Can you help me?" 

"I'll send someone right up. Anything else I can do for you?" 

"No, that's all, thanks." 

Stiles hung up. 

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door, and this time a pretty redhead entered his room.

She looked him up and down and made a noise of displeasure. 

"Hi," Stiles said, "Are you the stylist?" 

The girl's eyebrows rose. She made a face. "Obviously, you have no idea who I am." She held out her hand. "Lydia Martin, Derek's number one Partner." 

Stiles' cheeks flooded with heat. "I'm so sorry. I'm so embarrassed. I had no idea. I didn't think--wow, I'm sorry." 

"Don't worry about it. I'm more concerned about dressing you." She appraised him again. "You have good bone structure. Obviously, Derek has good taste. We just need to get you out of . . . this." 

Stiles looked down at his outfit: jeans, a t-shirt and a flannel. It was basically all he packed. "Not exactly luncheon material?" 

Lydia did not laugh. 

 

They went shopping in Lydia's bright red Escalade to a store Stiles has never heard of. Two men measured him for some custom suits, and he was given something off the rack just for the luncheon.

The outfit he left in was black slacks and a button-down. It was form fitting, and as Lydia said, it made his "butt look amazing." 

Lydia dropped him off in his room with one final command: "11:30. Don't be late or Derek will have your head." 

 

Stiles went downstairs at 11:27. He was the last one to arrive, but it seemed to have been planned that way. Derek and his other Partners were waiting at the bottom of the stairs, and a photographer followed Stiles all the way down. He clutched the banister to ensure he didn't fall. 

Derek met him at the bottom with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "You look fantastic. Welcome to the Mansion." 

They rearranged themselves for photos in an order Stiles would learn was very particular: Derek in the middle, of course, Lydia on one side of him and his other boyfriend between Stiles and Derek. Next to Lydia were Allison and a blonde girl. They posed for photos until Stiles was sure his smile would fall off, and then they went out to the garden for the luncheon. 

It was a small gathering, according to Lydia, of only 100 people. Derek and his partners were seated by themselves at a round table. Stiles was between the blondes: Jackson and the girl whose name he learned was Erica. 

"So Stiles," Derek said, "why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself?" 

All the eyes at the table turned to him, and Stiles cleared his throat. 

"Well, I moved down here from Beacon Hills about 3 years ago. I have a degree in European history, but that wasn't exactly a lucrative career option, which is why I was trying to interview for a job in the kitchen." 

Jackson's eyes narrowed. "Derek told us there was a mix-up when you two met. Are you sure you're not just dating him for his money?" 

Stiles caught Derek's eyes across the table, but instead of bailing him out, Derek waited silently for his answer. 

"Of course. Did you hear the part where I said I was trying to interview for a job in the kitchen? It was a total fluke that I met Derek instead of Alan. He thought I was here for a test shoot for the magazine." The look Stiles shot back was one of a challenge. 

Derek must have liked his answer because he cracked a smile. "I think this one is going to give you a run for your money, Jackson." 

Snorting, Jackson leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. 

"Have you ever wanted to model?" Erica asked. 

Stiles could tell he was still being tested, and he was ready to take whatever these bitches (Jackson included) could dish out. "Nope. Never. I've always wanted to work in a museum, which is part of the reason I wanted to work here. There's a lot of history in and around the Hale Mansion, so I wanted to be part of that."

Another satisfying answer. 

After that, the other Partners seemed to relax. The only opinion that mattered to Stiles was Derek's, and his new boyfriend seemed very pleased with his choice. 

Once everyone had eaten and the plates were cleared away, Derek stood up and made his way to the microphone set up at one end of the garden. 

"Hello, everyone. I would like to thank you all once again for joining us today. I hope you enjoyed your lunch. Now, I would like to introduce you to the guest of honor, my new Parter, Stiles Stilinski." He waved Stiles and the rest of his Partners onto the stage. 

They posed for more pictures in the sunshine. Stiles was just glad he didn't have to speak. When it was over, the luncheon had lasted about 3 hours. 

"I think I need a nap," Stiles said as they headed back into the house. 

"Do you need help getting back to your room?" Allison asked earnestly. 

"That would be great," Stiles said. He had a hard enough time making it to the staircase, and it was only because one of the butlers pointed him in the right direction that he managed not to get lost. 

As soon as the door was in sight, Stiles knew it was his because one of the butlers had hung a sign on it that read "Mets fans only beyond this point." 

"I think I'm going to like it here," he said. 

Allison smiled in return. "Dinner is always at five. Make sure you change before you come back down." 

"Are we photographed every night before dinner?" 

"No," Allison said with a laugh. "Only for special occasions." 

"Great. Thanks." Stiles shut his door and collapsed upon his bed.

 

TBC


	2. Quality Partner Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Naemi for the quick beta. And thank you to everyone who commented so far. I really love this story. <3

Stiles began to settle into life at the Mansion, although he mostly kept to himself. He didn't have a reason to visit with the others often, so he spoke with them primarily at dinner. Breakfast and lunch were eaten wherever and whenever they pleased, so Stiles usually took them in his room or out by the pool. 

Stiles had found the pool on his first day. Sometimes, the girls would lie out while he was swimming. Even less often, Jackson would sit with them. Stiles kept his pale, mole-dotted skin in sunscreen to keep from turning cherry red. He wasn't blessed with the beautiful golden skin of his fellow Partners. Sometimes he would swim into the grotto just to get out of the sun. He still couldn't understand why this particular spot was the most famous of all the places in the Mansion--it was just a cave in a swimming pool, but imaginations tend to run wild when secrets were withheld. Stiles couldn't wait to dispel the rumors to Scott. But what he really liked were the two giant saltwater aquariums. He could sit and watch the fish for hours. 

He also enjoyed exploring the expansive grounds. His favorite place besides the pool was the menagerie. Aiden, one of the butlers, had explained to him that the Mansion was one of the only private residences in California who possessed an actual zoo license. They had so many different birds and even several breeds of monkey. 

The person he saw the least was perhaps the one person he wanted to see the most. Fortunately, Stiles was summoned to Derek's bedroom Thursday night via a phone call from a butler named Boyd. 

"Mr. Hale would like you to meet him in his bedroom." 

"Thanks, Boyd," Stiles said. At least he didn't call him "Mr. Stiles" this time. 

By the time he got to Derek's bedroom, Stiles was nervous and kicking himself for not putting on more deodorant.

When the door opened, his heart leapt into his throat. Derek was wearing grey lounge pants and a black henley that looked like they would be soft to touch, and for a moment, Stiles wanted to rub his cheek against the fabric. Derek's feet were bare, making him look even more endearing. 

"Come on in," Derek said. "Have a seat." 

Stiles' eyes widened as he took in the view of the room for the first time. "On, on the bed?" he asked, fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt.

The bed took up the majority of the space, and it was practically all Stiles could focus on, but Derek gestured to chairs in front of a fireplace. "Here is fine." 

"Do you have fires in here?"

"Would you like me to have one lit?" 

"Am I supposed to have sex with you?" Stiles asked instead. So much for avoiding the obvious.

"No." Derek shook his head, and his expression remained serious. "I don't want you to sleep with me unless you feel comfortable." 

Stiles expected him to say "until," but Derek didn't, which caused Stiles to let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. "That's a relief." He practically melted into the chair he had been offered before.

Derek gave him an odd look. 

"I mean: letting me move in here and everything, I just didn't want you to think I was a prostitute, or something. Because I'm not."

"No, you're not." Derek sat next to him. "Tell me about yourself, Stiles."

"I already did. At the luncheon." 

Derek shook his head. "Not the basics. I want to know about where you come from. Your family. What are you passionate about?" 

"Beacon Hills, all I have left is my dad, I'm an only child, and I'm really passionate about solving puzzles."

"Care to elaborate on all that?" Derek sat back and made himself comfortable. He dug a bottle of water out of a cooler next to him. "Would you like one?" 

"Sure. Have you heard of Beacon Hills?" 

Derek shook his head. 

"It's a really small town about an hour north of San Francisco." 

"How about your mom? Can I ask what happened to her?" 

"She died," Stiles said, and took a long drink of water. He wasn't comfortable talking about her to Derek, yet. "And I'm an only child, so it was just me and Dad until I went to college. He married my best friend's mom, though, so he's not alone. I wouldn't be here if he was." 

"What does he think about you being here?" 

"He . . . doesn't exactly know . . . yet." 

"Fair enough." 

"What about you? How did you get into the publishing industry?" 

Derek's expression darkened. "My mother started _Halefire_. Then, she met my father and they ran the company together." He paused, and Stiles almost regretted asking. "They died in a car accident four years ago. That's when I took over the company." 

"Wow. Derek, I'm so sorry. I had no idea." 

"I still have my sisters, Laura and Cora--you'll meet them soon enough. Then, there's my Uncle Peter and my cousin, Malia. They have sort of kept me sane though this whole thing." 

"That's good." Stiles drained the rest of his water bottle and suddenly had to piss like a racehorse. "Well, I should probably get back to my room. I don't want to take up too much of your evening. Thanks for your time, Derek." 

"One last thing before you go, Stiles: Your allowance will be deposited into your bank account tomorrow morning. If you need more than that, let me know." 

"What on earth could I need with all this?"

He received an enigmatic smile in reply.

When he got back to his room, Stiles was already regretting not sleeping with Derek. Who could turn down someone who looked like a supermodel? Stiles, apparently. After relieving his bladder, he crawled into bed and jerked himself off to thoughts of Derek. There was always tomorrow. 

 

The next morning, the ringing of the phone woke Stiles from sleep. One hand reached out from the blankets in search of the receiver. 

"'lo?" he mumbled. 

"Stiles? It's Allison." She sounded way too perky for this early in the day. 

"Good morning." Stiles wiped a hand over his face. Although he was speaking, he felt like he was still asleep or could be in moments. 

"Listen, I know it's early, but we're going to head out for brunch and do some shopping. Would you like to come?" 

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles mumbled. "Let me get up and get dressed." He fumbled the phone back onto cradle. After a moment, he rolled over onto his stomach, picked up the receiver again and dialed 0. 

"This is Boyd." 

"Boyd, it's Stiles. Could you please bring me a caramel macchiato?"

"I'll be right up, Mr. Stiles." 

"In a to go cup," he managed to add before hanging up.

He got up and dressed himself in jeans, flipflops, and a fitted _Property of Halefire_ t-shirt Lydia had given him a few days prior. He was brushing his teeth when Boyd knocked on the door. 

"Come in!" he shouted around his toothbrush.

"Macchiato, Mr. Stiles." 

Stepping out of the bathroom, Stiles pointed with his toothbrush. "Set it on the nightstand. Thanks, Boyd." 

 

Brunch was held at a swanky place in West Hollywood that required reservations. Stiles still felt like someone was going to pinch him and he'd wake up from this dream. 

"This is nice," he said when they were all seated around a table. "Thanks for inviting me." 

"Well, you're one of us now." 

Lydia's words gave Stiles a warm feeling. He hadn't quite felt like he fit in until this point. "Okay, so I have some questions." 

The group remained quiet and attentive. 

"Do you guys all . . . sleep together?"

"Sleep together, yes, sometimes," Lydia said. "Have sex--no. Derek likes to keep his relationships separate." 

"Well, that's a relief." 

"Do you like girls?" Jackson asked. 

"Not . . . sexually." Stiles resisted the urge to say that he didn't like Jackson, either. "Do you?" 

Jackson nodded. "I play both sides of the fence." 

"How about you?" Stiles asked the girls. "Do you . . . " He blushed, unable to say the words. 

"Are you trying to ask if we munch box?" Erica asked, the brashest of the three. 

Stiles nodded. 

"I've been known to hit for the other team." 

"Strictly dickly," Lydia said. 

Allison shook her head. "I'm not really into women, either." 

"So does it bother you that Derek has boyfriends, too?" 

"No," Erica answered. "Why would it?" 

"Just a question." 

All in all, it was a good lunch. Afterwards, they went shopping, and the group encouraged Stiles to spend more money than he ever had in his life. 

 

When they returned home, Derek was in the dining room. Lydia led the others to greet him with a kiss. 

Stiles sort of gave him an awkward hug and received a sincere smile in return. 

"What did you get?" Derek asked. 

Lydia showed him some cute lingerie.

"I look forward to seeing that."

"Maybe I'll show you tonight," Lydia said with a grin. 

"What did you buy, Stiles?" 

"Uhh . . . " He fumbled with his bags. "Some shirts. A pair of jeans." 

"Show him the socks you got." 

"They're silly," Stiles said, ducking his head. 

"Now, I really want to see," Derek said. 

Reluctantly, Stiles pulled the socks out. They were just white crew socks, but they were printed all over with the Mets logo. 

"They're my favorite team, too." 

Stiles' heart swelled with affection. When he got back to his room, he dumped his clothes outs on the bed to sort through what needed to go into the drawers and what needed to be hung up in the closet. The socks he ripped the tags off and slid onto his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll meet the rest of the Hales in chapter 3 and prepare for the first Mansion party.


	3. Laura and Cora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles meets the girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the positive feedback on the last two chapters. I reallyreally like the way this fic is shaping up, so I'm glad that so many of you are enjoying it. 
> 
> Apologies for taking so long to get this out; my monster of a fic, Domestication, just tends to eat up all my writing time.

The door to Stiles' bedroom burst open, and he suddenly found himself surrounded by long dark hair and breasts. 

"Stiles!" two women cried. 

"Uh . . . hi?" he said as he untangled himself from the forced hug. 

"We're Derek's sisters," the taller of the two said. "I'm Laura, and this is Cora." 

"Nice to meet you," Stiles said, tugging at his t-shirt self-consciously. "You guys are lucky I wasn't in the shower or something." 

"That wouldn't have stopped us," Cora said. She raised an eyebrow in challenge, and Stiles was reminded of Derek. It was almost scary how much the three Hale siblings resembled one another.

"Of course not." Stiles nodded like all of this made sense. 

"Have you been to the studio, yet?" Laura asked, looping her arm around Stiles'. 

"The . . . like, where you guys shoot the photos for _Halefire_?" 

"That's the one." 

"No, not yet." 

Cora twirled a lock of hair around one finger. "Have you even met Jennifer?" 

"Derek's assistant, right?" 

"Secretary, assistant, it's really the same thing, but, yes."

Stiles shook his head. "That's a no." 

"Oh, come on." Cora took Stiles' other arm and dragged him and Laura out the door. "What has Derek been doing? Keeping you locked up in here like some princess in a castle?" 

"Well, it's not like I go wandering through the Mansion." 

"You should," Laura said. 

The girls led Stiles to the left wing of the house opposite their living quarters. They veered into the first office where they found a pretty brunette woman sitting at a desk. She looked like she could have been another Hale sister, or a cousin, at least. 

"Hey girls, what are you up to? Who's this?" 

"This is Stiles," Cora said, pushing him forward. "Derek's new beau." 

"Oh." Jennifer laced her fingers together and set her chin on them. "I knew there was someone new floating around, but he hasn't wandered down this way, yet. How are you liking the Mansion so far, Sugar?" 

"I like it. Everyone has been really nice." 

"Good." Jennifer glanced at Laura. "Derek sure found a cute one this time." 

Stiles felt his cheeks heat at the compliment. He didn't think he was nearly as attractive as Jackson, but it was nice to know that Derek wasn't the only one who saw something in him. 

"What are you guys doing today?" 

"We're going to take Stiles over to the studio and then probably head to lunch," Laura said. 

"Have you been to the studio, Stiles?" 

"Not yet." He wasn't comfortable being under the watchful stare of three powerful women in Derek's life. They made him nervous like his every movement might be reported back to Derek or something. 

"You're in for a real treat," Jennifer said. "They're shooting today. You guys should probably hurry up if you want to make it before they're done." 

"You heard the woman," Laura said, slinging an arm around Stiles' waist to steer him out the door. "Let's go."

"Have fun!" 

"Oh," Cora said as they headed out the door, "trust us, we will." 

 

They drove over to Halefire's West Hollywood studio in Cora's little red Bentley. Walking into the building was almost more overwhelming for Stiles than the first time he walked into the Mansion. There were huge, framed _Halefire_ covers adorning the walls, and everything about the office building was streamlined and chic and _expensive_. Even the girl at the front desk looked like she cost hundreds of dollars just to make up in the morning. 

The girls led Stiles on a tour. They showed him the make-up room, wardrobe, props, and editing. By the time they found Derek overseeing a photoshoot, Stiles's head was spinning from meeting so many people.

"Hey," Derek said, sliding a hand around Stiles' waist and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "What do you think so far?" 

"I think your life is so much bigger than I could have imagined," Stiles answered honestly. 

The Hale siblings shared a laugh at that. 

"Have you ever seen a photoshoot before?" Derek asked, dragging Stiles' attention back to the scene in front of them. Two nude models, a brunette woman and a blond man, were wrapped around one another in a pose that mimicked intercourse atop a leather couch. 

_Halefire_ had been the first nude centerfold magazine to feature both male and female models. Since its humble beginnings in the early 80s, it had risen to prominence as the leading adult magazine in the industry. 

Stiles watched with a mixture of amazement and curiosity as Derek gave sparse input to the photographer and the models. The scene progressed to the point that the woman was on her back with her legs spread, and the man was poised over her, his hard cock pointed out like he would enter her at any moment. 

"That's a wrap," the photographer said suddenly, snapping Stiles out of his trance, and just like that, the magic of the moment was gone. The models jumped up from the couch and covered themselves in silk robes. The room became a flurry of movement as the crew began to break down the set. Had it not been for Derek's arm around his waist, Stiles may have lost himself in the shuffle and commotion. 

Turning around, the photographer's eyes fell on Stiles. "Well look at you," he said, giving Derek's new beau a lopsided grin. "When are you going to take your turn in front of my camera, cutie? All of Derek's partners have been in the magazine. Well, except for Allison, but I've got my eye on her." 

Stiles fumbled for words. He had never received so much attention before. It was a unnerving. Thankfully, Derek rescued him before he had to produce a flimsy excuse. 

"Don't worry about him. That's Finnstock. He's one of our best photographers, but he does not know the meaning of the word 'tact.' Come here," he said. "I want you to meet someone else." 

Stiles wasn't planning to remember these names, either, but he also wasn't expecting to meet the two models he'd just seen naked and wrapped around one another. 

"Hey, babe," Derek said, hugging the girl and kissing her cheek. Stiles unwittingly felt a thread of jealousy wind its way up his spine. "Stiles, this is Paige. She's been modelling for us for about three years. She's also one of my former girlfriends." 

Though he knew very well that Derek had had more than his share of partners, it was an entirely different thing for Stiles to meet them face to face. 

"Nice to meet you, Stiles," Paige said, extending her hand. 

Stiles shook Paige's hand, but he felt something inside of him crumble. She was gorgeous, with flawless skin and a beauty mark under one eye. Why Derek would have given her up, Stiles couldn't even imagine. 

"So, lunch?" Cora asked, bouncing back over to the group. She had Laura and the male model in tow. Stiles was pleased to see that he has changed into a t-shirt and jeans. Paige was still wearing her silky robe. 

"Sure," Derek said. "Are you guys coming, too?" 

Paige nodded. "Sounds good to me. I just need to get some clothes on. Isaac, what about you?" 

The blonde--Isaac--was quiet for a moment. "I guess. I don't have to be anywhere until later." 

 

Stiles didn't have a chance to feel awkward during lunch because Laura and Cora teamed up to drill him about his past. 

"So, you're from Beacon Hills, you're an only child, you have a degree in European history, and your dad married your best friend's mom," Laura said, ticking off each item on her fingers. "Great. That covers the first box of your Wikipedia article. Now, tell us about the _real you_." 

"Uh, the real me?" Stiles shifted nervously. 

"Yeah," Cora amended. "Likes? Dislikes? Biggest dream? Worst nightmare? Reason you're dating my clown of a brother?" 

"Hey," Derek objected. 

"Solving mysteries, broccoli, working for the FBI, losing my dad, and because he asked me," Stiles rattled off in one go. 

"Damn," Laura said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Not that I'm not impressed, but do you always talk so fast?" 

"Sorry." Stiles rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "I guess I'm just a little nervous." 

"Don't let them get to you," Paige said from across the table. Her smile was infectious. It maked her look even more adorable. "They did the same thing to me when Derek and I first started dating. I actually think they like you better, though, because they didn't invite me to lunch until we'd been together for at least a month." 

"Actually, it was because we were trying to get Derek and Lydia together," Laura said, but the comment was said without heat. Stiles could tell there was no feeling of animosity within this group. 

"And look where that got us," Derek said with a sigh. 

"So Derek," Stiles said, growing bold. "How did you become the CEO of _Halefire_?" 

"Well, it started after--" Cora clamped a hand over her own mouth. "Sorry, did you want to tell this one?" 

Derek made a sweeping gesture with his hand that told his sister to continue. 

"So our mom, Talia Hale, started the company before we were born. We always knew that one of us would take over, but not that it would be so soon." 

"Since I'm the oldest, we always thought it would be me," Laura cut in. 

"Right," Cora agreed. "So you're probably aware that our parents died in a car accident about five years ago." 

Stiles nodded sagely. "I lost my mom when I was 10. I can't say that I understand what you went through, but I know what it feels like to lose a parent."

"Derek was the one who kept us together," Laura said. "He was really our rock. I, on the other hand, was a complete mess. After the funeral, it just seemed logical that Derek would take over, so he moved back into the Mansion and here we are. We just never imagined his taste in partners would be so . . . voracious."

"So what do you guys do for a living?" Stiles asked, trying to be polite. He felt bad that Paige and Isaac weren't very involved in the conversation, but they seemed to be enjoying their own company well enough. 

"I'm a stylist and Cora is a model." 

"Do you model for _Halefire_?" 

"No." Cora's reply was immediate and curt. "I've been modelling since I was about 17, and I didn't want anyone to think my career was handed to me because of who my parents are--were. I worked hard to get where I am, and I'm not sought out because my last name is Hale." 

"Cora's actually the one who get me my first job at _Halefire_ ," Paige said, turning Stiles' attention to her once again. "We were both doing a runway show, and Cora told me I had the right look for the magazine. Three years later, here I am." 

"Here you are," Stiles echoed. He still wasn't sure how he felt about Derek keeping his exes around, but with so many Partners, it should hardly have been a surprise. "Well, this whole thing is still pretty amazing to me. My best friend is dying to meet you guys." 

"Oh, really?" Cora said. "What's his name? Is he cute? You can't hide cute boys from us, Stiles." 

"Just don't our brother get too close to him," Laura said with a snort. 

"I plan on bringing him down here. I've just been waiting. He's straight, anyway." 

"What is it you always say, Derek?" Isaac said, appearing to finally join the conversation. "Straight boys are the easiest to seduce?" 

Stiles wanted to smack the smirk off his perfectly tanned face. 

Nonplussed, Derek shrugged and pulled Stiles a few inches closer. "It's not exactly wise to date your Partner's friends unless you want them to become your exes." 

Stiles settled back into his chair. He felt both validated and appreciated. He was not sure if he liked Isaac at all, but the girls were definitely growing on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think in the comments. 
> 
> If you're on Tumblr, I'd love to play with you! @moitmiller


	4. Shopping with the Partners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this a lot sooner, but I kept getting waylaid. In any event, we're moving closer to the Sterek. Scott is going to make an appearance in the next chapter and things will really start to pick up.

Although Jackson’s birthday was only a few days after Independence Day, he managed to find it in his benevolent heart to let the holiday be—his party would be a smaller, more intimate affair with Derek, the Partners, and about 50 of their closest friends. All of that came after the blowout a few days before. 

Stiles’ first clue that something was going on at the Mansion was the sprawling guest list on Jennifer’s desk. Stiles had taken to visiting her in the morning before his swim. 

“What’s this?” he asked, lifting one corner of the paper. It looked like Santa’s Naughty or Nice list. 

“Guest list for the party.” 

“Fourth of July party? Who is Derek inviting—the whole city of Hollywood?”

Jennifer’s laugh sounded like a man’s deep guffaw, but it was genuine and gave Stiles a warm feeling in his chest. “Honey, you’ve got a lot to learn about life around here. The big parties—Fourth of July, Midsummer Night’s Dream, Halloween, New Year’s—have a guest list of around a thousand people. It depends on Derek’s mood and his social politics at the time. I’m sure you’ve heard how exclusive our parties are.” 

“I’ve also heard you can buy your way in. Is that true?”

“For our famous, non-holiday parties, yes. We sell tickets for the Midsummer party, for example, and donate the money to charity. Derek is particularly fond of wolf conservation.” 

Humming in reply, Stiles glanced down at the guest list. He saw a few names he recognized—models who had been in the magazine, celebrities. “Is the guest list full?” 

“Why? Is there someone you want to invite? Some A-lister you’ve been drooling over? You know you’re not allowed to date on the side." 

The tips of Stiles' ears turned pink. "No, no, nothing like that. I was wondering if my best friend, Scott, could come? From Beacon Hills? I can ask Derek, but I just thought . . ."

Jennifer’s expression softened. ”Stiles, it's fine. This guest list actually went out months ago. I'm just verifying the RSVPs. Your friend is welcome to come any time. I'll make sure his name is on our regular guest list. You can invite your parents, too, if you want." 

"I'm not so sure about that." Not only did his parents not know that he was living at the Hale Mansion, he really did not want them to meet Derek and the other Partners at a Mansion party.

"Okay, what's your friend's name, Sugar?" 

Stiles gave her Scott's information and watched as she wrote it down. 

*

"A _Hale Mansion Party_? Dude, are you serious right now? How could you even ask? Of _course_ I want to come!" 

"Good because I practically had to beg Derek to get you on the guest list." 

Scott was quiet for a moment. "Seriously?"

"No, I'm totally screwing with you, dude." Stiles gave Scott the details about the party and offered to let his friend crash at the Mansion. Scott was so excited he nearly sent himself into an asthma attack. 

By the time Stiles got off phone, he was nearly full to bursting with excitement. 

*

Stiles was relaxing in the pool with the other Partners that afternoon when the subject of the party came up. 

"You're going to need a bathing suit," Jackson said. Lowering his Ray-Bans, he looked Stiles up and down. 

"I have a bathing suit. What do you think this is?" Stiles lifted the edge of his shorts. 

Lydia sighed in exasperation. "What he means is a costume. Use your words, Jackson. You can't wear just any pair of swim trunks, especially not to your first Mansion party." 

The pack (as the media refers to any permutation of Derek and his Partners) whisked him off to Vilebrequin in Beverly Hills. He was pushed into a changing room and told to take off his clothes. 

“Everything, Stilinski,” Lydia said. “We need to make sure these fit right.” 

The first pair of shorts he was handed look like little more than a Speedo. “No,” Stiles said, stretching the waistband. “These will hardly cover my buttcheeks.”

“Put them on,” Jackson said. “It will give us a better idea of what you look like in swimwear.” 

Heaving a loud sigh, Stiles did as he was told. Thankfully, the shorts didn’t ride up, but he had to fight the urge to cover himself when he opened the door. No reaction came from the Partners. 

“Well?” he threw his hands in the air.

“Too tight.” 

“Too small.” 

“Too gaudy.” 

“I told you!” Growling, Stiles slammed back into the dressing room. 

They continued the cycle while Stiles tried on what seemed like every pair of trunks in the store: baggy ones, tight ones, short ones, long ones, prints, and solids. Allison even somehow coerced him into a thong, but Stiles refused to come out in it. Privately, he admitted to himself that he liked the way it made his butt look. 

An hour and a half into their shopping adventure, the group agreed on a pair of short, loose-fitting trunks pattered with green and blue sea turtles. Although they were much shorter than the ones Stiles had back at the Mansion, they were more flattering. Only the price tag gave him pause. 

“$325 for a pair of shorts?”

Lydia set the trunks on the checkout counter along with a shell bracelet for herself. “It’s a costume, remember? Looking the part is expensive.” 

Of course, the Partners coerced Stiles into modeling his new trunks for Derek when they got home. 

“What do you think?” Stiles asked. He chewed the skin ff his bottom lip as he waited for Derek’s approval. 

“Cute,” was all Stiles got. Excitement bled from his body like he’d been punctured as Derek looked back down at his desk. 

*

Stiles folded his new trunks and put them away in the drawer. He tried not to think about Derek's dismissal, but it weighed him down like a brick in his stomach. 

Someone knocked on his door, and Allison entered before he could tell her to come in. 

"Hey," she said, sinking down on his bed. "Are you okay?" 

Stiles swivelled around in his desk chair. "Of course. I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" His eyes welled up with tears. He blinked, and they cascaded down his cheeks. "I don't think I want to be here anymore. Or Derek doesn't want me here. I don't know." 

"Oh, Honey." Allison's face was full of sympathy. "Derek loves having you here. Sometimes he's just really terrible at showing it." 

"Allison, he hardly even looked at me!" Stiles swiped at the tears on his face. 

"To be fair, he was working. Plus, if he had seen you, I'm sure he would have been drooling." 

"Yeah, right. If it wasn't for Scott, I wouldn't even go to this stupid party." 

"Who's Scott?" 

"My best friend from back home. He's coming down for the party, and he's going to stay here for a few days." 

"Ooh, sounds like fun! Has he ever been to LA before?"

"Like once when we were kids, I think. He went to college in Texas, and he just moved back to Beacon Hills like a year ago. Right before we became step-brothers." 

"Oh," Allison said. "That's the one whose mom married your dad?" 

"That would be the one." 

"That's wonderful. I can't wait to meet him." 

By the time Allison left, Stiles felt much better. So much, in fact, that he kept his snarky comments to himself when he was summoned to Derek's room that night. 

He made sure to wear a pair of baggy sweatpants and an old college t-shirt. Nothing sexy here, no Sir. This was only their second visit alone, so Stiles was surprised to find Derek sitting up in bed. 

Derek looked up from the papers he was reading. A pair of thick black glasses was slipping down his nose. "Would you be comfortable joining me here?" he asked.

Every statement Stiles had prepared flew out of his head. What came out of his mouth was, "I didn't know you wore glasses." 

Derek pushed the frames back into place. "Usually just when I'm reading or at night when my eyes get tired." 

"Oh."

"Please, sit down, Stiles. Wherever you're comfortable is fine." 

His options were Derek's enormous bed or one of the plush chairs in front of the fireplace. He chose the bed, but kept several pillows' worth of space between them. 

"I want to apologize for earlier," Derek started. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, and I'm sorry if I did. I want to make it up to you." 

"Okay," Stiles said. He didn't want to sound too eager or let Derek know how hurt he was. 

"I know we haven't had any time alone, so I was thinking Vegas and dinner at the Stratossphere?" 

Stiles' eyes grew so wide they looked like they might pop out of his head. "Wow. You sure know how to impress a guy. When are we going?" 

"How about tomorrow night?" 

"Tomorrow is great." 

"Great." Derek gave him one those smiles that shattered Stiles' heart into a thousand pieces.

 

The hopes Stiles held of getting ready for his date alone were dashed when Allison and Lydia burst into his room as he stepped out of the shower. 

"That was locked!" He sounded more exasperated than annoyed. 

"There's no such thing as a locked door around here." 

"We're going to help you get ready for your date with Derek." 

"How do you know about that?" 

"Jennifer told us," Lydia said with a shrug. "We heard her on the phone getting Derek's jet ready." 

"Of course you did." Stiles jerks open his dresser drawer. He picks out some underwear and pulls them on beneath his towel before the girls can rip it off.

"Perfect." Allison takes his towel and pushes him onto the bed as Lydia starts rifling through his closet. 

"This, this, and this." 

Several articles of clothing (at least they're his own this time) fall onto Stiles. 

Lydia spins around. "What are you waiting for? Put them on." 

The outfit she picked consisted of dark-washed jeans, a white CBGB's t-shirt and a black sport jacket. 

"You do realize he's taking me out, right?" 

Allison and Lydia share a look. "This is why we're dressing you. Put it on."

When Stiles was dressed, he had to admit that the outfit flattered him. 

"And these." Allison held out a pair of Converse sneakers. 

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Really? You want me to be that guy?" 

"Are you trying to impress Derek or the patrons of Las Vegas?" 

Cowed, Stiles put on the shoes. 

"Now, your hair." The girls fussed over it, applying more product than Stiles had ever used in his life. When they were done, it some how looked soft and effortlessly coiffed. 

"Wow," Stiles said as he admired his reflection in the mirror. "Can you guys do this for me every day?" 

"Nice try."

"Next time, you're on your own." 

 

As usual, Derek was already downstairs waiting for him. The difference this time was that the other three Partners were watching from the balcony like the mice in Cinderella. 

"You look amazing." Derek took Stiles' hand and kissed his cheek. 

Although he accepted the compliment, Stiles still felt inadequate next to Derek's shirt and tie combo. 

They took a limo to the airport. Stiles couldn't help but gape at the opulence of Derek's private jet. "This is incredible," he said as they buckled up for take-off. Despite living in the Mansion, he still had not grown accustomed to the freedom and luxury Derek's money afforded them. 

"I probably should have done this sooner," Derek said. "I didn't mean for you to feel neglected; it's just been busier than usual. I like to take my Partners out one-on-one from tim to time." He paused. "Allison told me how much I upset you yesterday." 

Stiles' face flushed with embarrassment. 

"There are no secrets between any of us, and I don't what there to be secrets between you and I." 

"Is that one of the rules?" Stiles wanted to smack his mouth for asking before his brain could catch up and say _no_. 

Derek cocked his head to the side like a predator sizing up his prey. "Do you really want to be here?" 

"Is that like an existential question or are you literally asking if I want to be on this airplane?" 

"I'm asking if you actually want to be my Partner." 

Stiles' mouth pinches into an O. "Is this an elaborate way of breaking up with me?" 

"Do you always answer a question with a question?" 

"I want to be here," Stiles said. "Literally and existentially. I've just never done something like this before. All these rules and my boyfriend--who I'm apparently on my first date with--has another boyfriend and two girlfriends. I don't know the unwritten rules, and this is just really hard for me." 

"There's no rule that says you can't keep secrets from me, but you need to know that the rest of us have no secrets." 

"Duly noted," Stiles says. He feels like he's in a lecture, rather than on a date. 

"Stiles." Derek takes his hands. "Let's start over. I'm sorry I upset you last night. Your bathing suit looks great. I can't wait to see you in it at the party." 

"I'm looking forward to it. Did Jennifer tell you I invited my friend, Scott? She said it was okay, but I just wanted to check." 

"No problem. I'll make sure she put him on the regular invite list." 

"And is it okay if he stays in the Mansion? Just for a couple of days in my room?"

"Of course," Derek said. "The Mansion is your home, too. I don't want you to feel otherwise." 

The lights from the Vegas strip weren't visible from the sky because it was still daylight when they landed, but Stiles was still impressed. He and Derek took a limo from the airport to the Stratosphere and rode the elevator to the Top of the World. The hostess led them to a private table next to the window. 

"How's this for a first date?" Derek asked with a smirk. 

"You're definitely winning me over." Stiles couldn't help himself from staring out the window. Since the restaurant rotated on its base, the view was ever-changing. "Does it seem to you like we keep having first dates? That meeting in your bedroom, the lunch with your sisters . . . now this."

"I'm sure we can move to the second date after tonight." When the waitress came to their table, Derek ordered a bottle of Bollinger. 

"What are we celebrating?" Stiles asked. 

"Us," Derek said simply. He held Stiles' gaze for a moment, lifted his glass, and drank deeply. 

After dinner, they strolled down the strip. Several people stopped them to take pictures, which Stiles found surprising because there was nothing interesting or special about him--he just happened to be dating Derek Hale.

At one point, Derek reached out and took Stiles' hand. "Is this okay?" 

"Yeah," Stiles replied, his cheeks flushing with pleasure. 

They checked out the tourist sights--the volcano at the Mirage, the fountain in front of the Bellagio. Derek offered Stiles some money to gamble, but he declined. 

"I'm not much of a risk-taker." 

Stiles was dead on his feet by the time they got back to the airport, and he slept all the way home. 

"I should have gotten us a hotel," Derek said as he walked Stiles to his room. "I just didn't want it to seem like I expected retribution for the evening." 

"Such a gentleman." Stiles' smile turned into a yawn. "Thanks. I had a great time tonight." 

"Me too," Derek said. 

For a moment, Stiles stood there staring into Derek's eyes, his mind wandering in a thousand places. And then Derek kissed him and all thoughts fled. The kiss didn't last long, but Stiles' lips were tingling when Derek pulled away. 

"Have a good night, Stiles." Derek brushed his thumb against his Partner's cheek before heading back down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you're enjoying this, and I'm taking prompts on Tumblr @moitmiller


	5. Pool Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has not been betaed or proofread because I've had killer headaches all week and I just wanted to get this done. So, if there are major mistakes, please let me know. It's also shorter than I intended, but that's because it was originally supposed to be part of the previous chapter. 
> 
> On the bright side, we finally meet Scott, and the plot moves along nicely. :)

Derek was gracious enough to send a car for Scott, but it meant Stiles spent the morning anxiously watching the window. 

“You’re not making his flight move any faster,” Lydia said. She had camped out on Stiles’ bed to read through the latest issue of _Halefire_. This one featured Paige in a solo shoot they’d done several months before. 

“I really like her legs in this one, don’t you?” 

“He’s here!” Stiles shouted. He took off out of his room, leaving Lydia behind. 

As he careened through the house, he nearly crashed into Derek on the stairs. “Whoa! Where are you going in such a hurry?”

“Scott’s here!” Stiles bypassed his boyfriend and jumped down the last two steps. 

He threw open the front door as Scott stepped out of the limo. “Scotty!”

“Stiles!” Scott caught Stiles as he launched himself across the driveway. 

“Dude, it’s so good to see you! I though you’d never get here!” 

“It’s good to see you, too! Man, this place is amazing!” 

“Wait until you see the inside,” Stiles said, taking him by the wrist.

Derek was waiting in the entryway when they walked back inside. 

“Scott, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Derek Hale. Derek, this is my best friend, Scott McCall.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hale.” 

“Likewise. I’ve heard so much about you. And please, call me Derek.” 

“I’m going to show him around.” Stiles pressed a kiss to Derek’s cheek. “I’ll see you later.” 

 

Stiles spent the rest of the day showing Scott the Mansion and grounds and introducing him to the other Partners. 

“She’s gorgeous,” Scott gushed when they left Allison behind in the pool. 

“Really? I think Lydia’s so much hotter. Like supermodel level of hot.” 

“Yeah, but Allison’s got that ‘girl next door’ thing going on.” 

“She’s also dating Derek,” Stiles said, patting Scott on the back. “Let me introduce you to his sisters tomorrow.” 

Scott shrugged and followed Stiles back into the house. 

 

The party officially started at two, but the guests began to arrive around 12. Dutiful host that he was, Derek stood in the foyer and personally welcomed everyone who came in. 

Because of their relationship to Derek, the Partners were expected to stand in the receiving line. Stiles felt ridiculous wearing only his bathing suit as he greeted people he had once only seen on television. 

“How long does this last?” Stiles asked Allison out of the corner of his mouth. 

“About an hour,” she replied through her smile. 

As soon as they were relieved of duty, Stiles went in search of Scott. Predictably, he was talking to Laura and Cora. 

“Hey,” Stiles chirped, joining the trio. 

“Hey, dude,” Scott said, slinging his arm around Stiles’ shoulders. 

“I see you’ve found the rest of the Hales.” 

“More like we found him. How could we resist these baby cheeks?” Laura said, reaching out to pinch Scott’s face. 

“You probably shouldn’t—“ Stiles started, but he was cut off by Scott. 

“Stiles, if Derek’s hot sister wants to pinch my cheeks, let her.” 

“Have you guys gone down the slide yet?” Cora asked. The slide in question was a giant inflatable hooked up to the sprinkler system. 

I’m not really—“ 

“Oh, come one!” Cora took Stiles by the hand. “Scott, are you coming? Stiles and I are going to race.” 

She didn’t have to ask him twice. 

Stiles gripped the handrail tightly as he climbed the inflatable steps. At the top, there was a butler on each slide to make sure the guests didn’t crash into one another. 

“Ready!” Cora called over the sound of rushing water. 

“As I’ll ever be!” Stiles shouted back. 

One of the butlers counted to three, and Stiles and Cora jumped down the slides. Stiles must have lost control of himself because by the time he got to the bottom, he was sliding head-first into a pool of water. 

Standing up, he shook the water out of his eyes. “Did I win?” 

He heard laugher and looked to the side of the slide where Laura and Scott were standing.

“I think Cora got you around the time you performed your 180.” 

It took two tries for Stiles to get back out of the pool because he kept slipping, but he was laughing the whole time. 

He spent the rest of the day playing in the pool, talking to Scott, and eating too much. Periodically, he would stop to take a picture. 

By the time night fell, most of the guests had changed out of their bathing suits and spread out across the lawn to watch the fireworks show. 

Since Lydia and Jackson had already taken their places on either side of Derek, Stiles sat on a blanket with Allison. Scott took up the space on Stiles’ other side. 

“Did you guys have fun today?” Allison asked. 

“It was a blast!” Scott blurted before Stiles had a chance to open his mouth. “You guys throw an amazing party.” 

Allison beamed. “You should come back for the Midsummer Night’s Dream party. That’s really the best one. This is just a fancy barbecue compared to that.” 

“So I’ve heard.” 

Stiles cleared his throat. “Looks like they’re about to start.” 

Allison and Scott fell silent. Stiles didn’t mean to be such a wet blanket, but he was tired, and the last thing he needed was his best friend getting too handsy with his billionaire boyfriend’s girlfriend. The could only end badly and with Scott getting the raw end of the deal. 

The fireworks started, and the crowed oohed and ahhed appropriately. The show was impressive—Derek Hale never did anything by halves. At one point, Stiles looked over at him. The light from the fireworks set Derek’s face aglow, making him even more beautiful. Stiles’ heart clenched. Scott wasn’t the only one chasing the unattainable. 

After the fireworks, Derek corralled his partners back to the front door of the Mansion so they could say goodbye to their guests. At least this time Stiles was wearing track pants. 

When the last person was gone, Lydia shut the front door. “I’m going to bed. My mascara is clumping in the corners of my eyes, and I’m starting to see double.” She gave Derek a kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Goodnight.” Derek’s expression was soft as he watched her walk up the stairs. 

“I’m going to bed, too,” Allison said. She also kissed Derek before following Lydia. 

Stiles was about to announce his departure when Jackson beat him to it. The thought of being left alone with Derek sent Stiles’ heart racing. But instead of Jackson following the girls’ lead, Derek kissed Stiles. 

“Have a good night,” he said, brushing his thumb against Stiles’ cheek. Then, he took Jackson’s hand and started for the second floor. 

Stiles was left, somewhat dumbfounded, alone in the foyer. 

 

Scott gave him a concerned look when Stiles got back to his room. “Dude, what happened? Did you and Derek fight?” 

Stiles shook his head. “No, no fight. He went to bed.” 

“Then why the long face?” 

“He went to bed with Jackson.”

Scott’s expression didn’t change. “But he’s dating Jackson.” 

“Yeah, I just . . . “ Stiles threw his hands in the air. “I guess I’m just not used to sharing?” 

Scott patted his back. “I knew, dude. And I know how you feel. If I had someone like Allison, I wouldn’t want to share her with anyone.” 

“You really need to stay away from her.” 

“Why? We can be friends. Derek doesn’t have a rule against that. As long as I look without touching, he can’t say a word.” 

“Actually, he can say whatever he wants. He can kick me out, charge me rent, sue me for slander—“

“Stiles! Don’t you think you’re taking this just a little too far? Nothing happened.” 

“I didn’t think I would have to _see_ Derek with the others!” 

Scott winces in sympathy. “It will get better. I promise.” 

“Or I will completely get my heart broken.” 

“Isn’t that the chance you take with any relationship?” 

“When did you get so wise?” Stiles sighs. “You’re right, though. In a few months, I’m sure all of this will be normal.” They both know it’s bullshit, but at least it sounds good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're enjoying this, please let me know. Comments are love. <3


	6. Tourism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Partners take Scott around LA. Stiles and Derek have another date night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Naemi for the beta. She's always my champion. 
> 
> Chapter 7 has been written! As soon as I type it, I'll post it.

“I’m back, bitches!” Erica announced as she walked into the dining room.

Erica leaned down to give Derek a kiss. “Hi honey.”

“Did you have a good trip?”

“So good.” She caught sight of Scott across the table. “What’s this? Fresh meat?”

“No,” Stiles said. “He’s my best friend, and he’s just visiting for a few days.”

“He’s cute.” Erica winked at Derek.

“I’m straight, but thanks for the compliment,” Scott said. “See, the problem is that the sight of another dude’s junk is enough to make my balls shrivel and my butthole clench in fear.”

“That was descriptive,” Stiles said. With great exaggeration, he redirected his gaze to Erica. “So, where did you go?” Clearly, he was the only one out of the loop.

“New York. I had an audition for a Broadway show.” Erica tossed her long hair over one shoulder. “You didn’t think I was just a pretty face, did you?”

Stiles shrugged. His mind was whirring a mile a minute. “So how are you going to live in LA and work in New York?”

“I’d have to leave. I love Derek, but if my career is out east, then that’s where I need to be.”

Jackson pinned her with his gaze. “How much longer are you going to be here?”

Erica shrugged and plucked a strawberry off his plate. “We’ll see. Depends on how things go. I like it here.”

The conversation at the table lapsed into an awkward silence that Stiles couldn’t help but feel responsible for. He hadn’t meant to ask such an uncomfortable question, but it was gnawing at him. Not to mention the fact hat nobody seemed concerned about Erica’s sudden and unremarkable absence.

“Well,” Lydia drawled. “Jackson, what are we doing for your birthday tomorrow?”

Jackson covered his plate with a cloth napkin. “I was thinking dinner at Patina, then drinks at Hyde. What do you guys think?”

“It’s your birthday,” Derek said. “Will you be here tomorrow, Scott?”

“Uhh, yeah,” Scott said. “I’m not leaving until Sunday.”

Derek nodded. “I’ll let Jen know there will be seven of us. I’ve got some business to handle. Enjoy the rest of your day, everyone.”

*

Stiles collapsed onto his bed with a sigh. “I’m going to gain like twenty pounds living here if I’m not careful.”

“You need to start working out those scrawny arms of yours. You spend too much time playing video games.”

“You’re one to talk!”

Someone knocked on the door, and Stiles lifted his head. “Come in!”

Allison poked her head into the room.

Scott sat up straighter. “Hey, Allison.”

“I hope I’m not bothering you guys.”

“Of course not,” Stiles said. “Come in. Have a seat.”

Allison sat down on a corner of Stiles’ bed and smoothed her blue skirt over her thighs. “Are you enjoying your visit, Scott?”

“This place is amazing. How long have you been here?”

“A little over a year. I’m the newest Partner. Well, next to Stiles.”

“How about Erica? How long has she been here?” Stiles asked. The question had been burning him up since breakfast.

Allison thought for a moment. “Well, this time she’s been here for about two years. Last time was two years, too, so it’s a total of about four years.”

“She left and Derek took her back?”

“Derek’s just a guy. Dating him isn’t a one time use coupon. Granted, I don’t think he trusts her as much as he used to. When Erica left, Lydia became the number one Partner and moved into Derek’s room, so I think there’s still some rough feelings between them.”

“That’s interesting.” ‘The whole dynamic fascinated Stiles, and knowing some of the history made him feel better equipped to deal with it.

“How about Jackson?” Scott said. “Why does he have such a snotty attitude?”

Allison laughed. “Jackson is … an acquired taste. And he’s been here almost three years. Under that gruff exterior, he’s very devoted to Derek and the magazine.”

“Have you ever been featured in it?” Scott’s expression was piqued with interest.

Stiles smacked his arm.

“What?” Scott asked. “There’s nothing wrong with reading your boyfriend’s magazine.”

“I’ve shot a few times. My mom has copies of all the issues. Stiles is the only current Partner who hasn’t done a pictorial.” Allison shrugged. “Jennifer has the archives in her office.”

Scott’s eyes lit up with glee. “Fantastic.”

Allison smiled politely. “So, I was thinking that since Scott’s only in town for one more day, maybe we could take him out and show him around. Do the whole tourist thing.”

“Just us?” Stiles asked.

“If you want,” Allison said. “It’s up to you.”

Stiles was torn. Although he wanted the opportunity to spend more time with the others as well as Scott, he didn’t want to share time with his best friend. “Scotty?”

“I don’t care. I don’t really know the others, so I don’t care either way.”

Allison nodded. “Let me see who wants to go. Can I use your phone?”

“Sure.” Stiles gestured at the giant intercom on his nightstand.

Allison punched in an extension, and a moment later, Lydia’s voice came over the speaker. “Stiles … this is unexpected. What can I do for you?”

“Hey, Lyds, it’s Allison. Do you have any plans today?”

“No. Derek went to the studio, and I’m reorganizing my nail polish collection.”

“Great! I thought we could show Scott the highlights of LA.”

Lydia made a humming noise. “I’m in, but don’t bother with Erica—she said she was going to lay down. And I think Jackson is downstairs in the gym.”

“Okay. I’ll find him. How about we plan to leave around noon?”

“Works for me.”

*

The five of them piled into Lydia’s Escalade and headed to Griffith Park for a good view of the Hollywood sign.

“It’s the hills that make it look uneven from below. And it used to say ‘Hollywoodland,’” Stiles said. He always enjoyed an opportunity to draw from his well of trivia knowledge.

“Can we go up there?” Scott asked.

Lydia let out a frustrated breath. “Contrary to popular myth, there’s actually a fence and security cameras surrounding the sign to prevent it from being vandalized. Even if you were able to navigate the rocky terrain, the police would be called as soon as you got close enough to trip the sensors. When it was first built, you could—based on accessibility, not encouragement—climb on top of the letters like Peg Entwistle, who used the sign to commit suicide in the nineteen thirties.”

“Who?” Scott and Stiles asked together.

“She was an actress. She was only in one movie—Thirteen Women—but we’ve watched it at the Mansion before. It’s not bad. Anyway, the sign fell into serious disrepair due to vandalism and a lack of upkeep. Derek’s parents actually donated almost thirty thousand dollars to help repair it in the seventies. That’s a value of nearly two hundred grand today. Then, about ten years ago, they donated about another two hundred grand to purchase the nearby land and donate it to Griffith Park.”

Scott nodded, clearly impressed. “You’re better than a tour guide.”

“Well, I’ve lived here most of my life. I was getting ready to go to law school when I met Derek.”

From his position in the passenger seat, Scott was now focusing all his attention on Lydia. “You gave up law school? For Derek?”

“It’s more complicated than that.” Lydia took her eyes off the road to glance at Scott. “I was working as a journalist when we met. Right after his parents died, I had been assigned to write a story about the ‘elusive boy billionaire of Halefire.’ At the time, Derek had just moved into the Mansion with seven Partners, and I expected him to be some sort of shallow playboy having sex on piles of money. But when I interviewed him, I discovered him to be one of the most selfless, devoted men I’ve ever met. We started dating a couple weeks later, and a few months after that, I quit my job to move into the Mansion. The reason I decided not to go to law school was because I was accepted into Princeton. Since I didn’t want to leave Derek by that point, he offered me a job at the magazine.”

Scott’s expression turned smug. “You’re a centerfold too. Allison told me.”

“No.” Lydia’s fingers flexed on the steering wheel. “I’m the associate art director. You obviously don’t pay attention to the credits of Halefire.”

The tips of Scott’s ears turned pink.

“But for your information, I have been in the magazine a couple of times, just not by myself.”

Stiles looked at Jackson. “How did you and Derek get together? We’ve heard everyone’s story today except yours.”

Jackson smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Allison elbowed him. “Tell them.”

“I’m the one he found in another magazine.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“It’s true,” Lydia said.

“Seriously?” Stiles and Scott said at the same time.

The look of superiority on Jackson’s face grew more intense. “Before your little minds start to wander: He hired me as a model before we ever started dating. I probably did two or three shoots before he asked me out the first time. He was so persistent that I couldn’t go to work without finding bouquets of flowers on the set. I only said yes to shut him up.”

Stiles fell silent. Hearing Jackson’s story reaffirmed Stiles’ discomfort with his and Derek’s relationship. Trying to forge a relationship with Derek in the face of the other Partners’ relationships felt like climbing Mount Everest.

*

After Griffith Park, they took Scott down Hollywood Boulevard. His favorite part was not the Walk of Fame, nor the handprints in front of the Chinese theatre. Instead, he had the most fun at the wax museum, where he discovered a sculpture of Derek.

“It looks just like him!” Scott crowed with glee.

“And it’s not creepy at all.” Stiles’ voice dripped with sarcasm. He looked the figure up and down, half expecting Derek to frown or something.

Excitedly, Scott pulled out his phone. “Come on, I want a picture of all of you with your boyfriend.”

Allison, Lydia, and Jackson crowded around the statue, but Stiles held his ground.

“Come on, man, just one picture.”

Stiles sighed. “Fine.”

Of course, a group of tourists saw them, and one picture turned into about a half an hour of posing. Stiles still had not gotten used to this aspect of their lifestyle, and his mouth hurt from smiling by the time they finished.

*

They arrived home just in time for dinner. Erica even roused herself to join them.

“We went to the wax museum!” Scott announced before anyone could ask.

Erica smirked. “Did you find Derek?”

“Yeah!” Scott sounded like that was the reason they had gone there in the first place. He pulled out his phone to share the pictures.

“There were a bunch of people who wanted pictures, too. It was pretty cool.”

“You should have taken one with Derek, Scott,” Allison said.

Scott frowned. “I should have.”

“Too bad you’re not going back,” Stiles said. “Can someone please pass the potatoes?”

“You didn’t like the wax museum, Stiles?” Derek asked.

“Honestly? It was pretty creepy. Not, like, the whole thing, but definitely the one that looked like you. Something about that was just weird.”

The conversation lulled as they tucked into the generous spread on the table.

“Honey, are you sleeping in our room tonight or with Erica?” Lydia asked.

“He took a nap with me earlier.” The tone Erica used implied that they did a little more, but Stiles wasn’t about to ask after that one.

“Actually, it’s Stiles’ night.”

All the eyes at the table turned to him, but it was Scott who opened his mouth. “Uh, do I need to sleep in a different room?”

“No,” Lydia said. “I’ll sleep in Allison’s room tonight.”

Although the focus was taken off of him, Stiles still wished for the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

“Only if you want to, Stiles.” The full weight of Derek’s gaze fell on him, and like a fish on a hook, Stiles was caught.

*

“Are you gonna sleep with him?” Scott asked.

Stiles, who was changing his pants for the third time, looked up. “No! Dude, no! Why would you think that?”

Scott looked nonplussed. “He’s your boyfriend.”

“No.” Stiles pulled his jeans up and buttoned them. His tucked his t-shirt into the waistband and pulled a dark blue button-down over the top. “We haven’t slept together—”

“Yet.”

“We’ve only kissed. Like once.” Stiles ran a hand through his hair. “How do I look?”

“Pretty good.”

“Wish me luck,” Stiles said as he strode towards the door.

Scott pressed the power button on Stiles’ X-box. “Good luck.”

*

Derek opened the door to his bedroom almost as soon as Stiles knocked. He was still wearing his dress clothes. “Stiles.” He sighed like he’d been caught off guard.

“Is … this a bad time?”

“No.” Derek opened the door wider. “Please, come in. I was just going over some reports.”

Stiles entered the room to find paperwork spread across the floor. He had to watch his steps to ensure he didn’t put his foot on any of it. “For the entire year?” He didn’t mean for it to sound so judgmental, and he winced at the tone of his own voice.

“Yeah, I’m just … busy.”

Had Stiles been better at relationships and romance, he would have made some smooth gesture where he led Derek to the bed and made him forget all about the paperwork. As it was, he hovered awkwardly at the fringes of the mess while Derek stacked papers into a pile.

“You can have a seat.” Derek gestured at one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. He walked over to a side table and poured a tumbler of brandy. “Can I get you a drink?”

Stiles sat. “No, thanks.” He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans.

Derek sat down and took a sip from his glass. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No. Yes. Sometimes?”

“Stiles.” Leaning forward, Derek put his hand on Stiles’ knee. It was so warm that Stiles could feel the heat through his jeans. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re in here because you have to be. You can go back to your room and hang out with Scott, if you want.”

“It’s just … “ Stiles drew in a breath. “I feel like every time I see you—alone—we’re starting from the beginning? Sort of? Like, we’re picking up where we left off the other night, except it’s several nights ago now, and I … “ He wanted to avoid saying, ‘I hate that you have other Partners,’ but all of a sudden, Derek was kissing him, and Stiles’s brain shut down.

As Derek pulled away, all Stiles could say was “Wow.” He opened his eyes—when had he closed them?

Derek was smirking. “That good, huh?”

“That certainly picks up where we left off last time.” Stiles leaned forward and cupped Derek’s cheek. This time, he was the one to initiate their kiss. It was no wonder Derek had so many Partners—he was a great kisser.

A thought occurred to Stiles, and he pulled away with a moan. “Isn’t this weird?”

“Kissing you?” Derek’s eyebrows drew together, making him look like a puppy who couldn’t figure out where all the food in his bowl had gone.

“Well, no. But kissing me and then having to go kiss … Jackson.” Stiles lifted one shoulder. “Or … Allison. Any of the other Partners, really.”

Derek sat back in his chair. He made a noise of understanding and picked up his brandy. “We’re always going to come back to this, aren’t we?”

“I’m not trying to. It’s just hard.” Twisting his hands in his lap, Stiles lowered his eyes. “Some second date, huh?”

“I told you to be honest.” Derek reached out and wrapped his hand around Stiles’ wrist. “But I don’t know if there’s anything I can do about this one.”

“It’s not … I’m not asking you to do anything. I guess I’m just asking you to be patient with me? Maybe?” Stiles was finding it nearly impossible to express himself.

“Of course.” Derek’s thumb rubbed circles against the inside of Stiles’ wrist and the sensation made the tempo of his heartbeat pick up a few paces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone noticed that I forgot about Erica? :X *meep*


	7. Jackson's Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and his Partners go out for Jackson's birthday. Stiles gets drunk. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone for the kind words. The Sterek is about to start heating up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll--Chapter 8 is finished as of today, so I'll do my best to get it out before next Sunday. :)

On their way to _Hyde_ , one of the most exclusive nightclubs in Los Angeles, the paparazzi caught up with Derek and his entourage.

"What are you doing out tonight, Derek?"

"Can we see your new partner?"

Then, despite his best efforts to hide, they saw Stiles.

"Stiles! Over here!"

"Let's see your smile, Stiles!"

"How do you like dating Derek, Stiles?"

The flashing of camera bulbs nearly blinded him. Had it not been for Jackson grabbing his arm hard enough to bruise, Stiles would have fallen and been descended upon by the paps. But suddenly, a roar of pleasure resounded and the flash bulbs were directed to a spot behind him. A quick glance over his shoulder gave Stiles a glimpse of Lydia and Allison kissing. Admidst the chaos and confusion, Jackson yanked him through the door to _Hyde_.

Looking around the lobby, Stiles saw Derek, Scott, Erica, and four bodyguards. A moment later, Alison and Lydia came to the door howling with laughter. Their own bodyguards were right behind them.

Derek gathered his partners around him like a mother hen collecting her chicks. “Do we have everyone?"

Duke, the head of security, gave a curt nod. “Yes, Sir.”

One of the club’s hostesses led Derek's party upstairs to the VIP lounge. The music was just as loud up here, the bass thumping through the wide leather couch they all sat on. Over the balcony, they could see the writhing crush of bodies below. The waitress brought them a round of electric green shots in clear glasses.

"No, thanks," Stiles said.

“Come on, Stilinski!” Jackson shouted over the music. "It’s my birthday!"

Against his better judgement, Stiles took the shot, toasted the others, and knocked it back. It tasted like green apples, but he still wished he had a chaser.

"So what happened out there?" he asked.

"That was a contingency plan." Lydia said. "Tomorrow, Alison I will be on the cover of InTouch Weekly instead of you."

"Thanks," Stiles said, although he wasn't sure how to feel about any of it. The shot was already making his head swim.

Alison tugged at his hand. "Stiles, dance with us!”

Jackson and Erica were already dancing close while Scott bobbed next to them to his own rhythm. Only Derek and Lydia were still on the couch cuddled close together. One of the Partners pressed another shot into Stiles’ hand—one shaped like a test tube. This time, he drank it without being prodded. It tasted like apple pie. This whole club thing wasn’t so bad after all.

Stiles leaned over the balcony so he could see the rest of the club goers gyrating against one another to the beat of the music. As he turned around, he saw Scott dancing with Allison.

"Are you having fun?” he shouted.

"Best night ever!"

Erica spun out of Jackson’s arms, and suddenly she was dancing with Stiles. When the group ordered another round of shots, Stiles took the first one off the tray.

As the night wore on, and the shots kept coming. Stiles danced with everyone. Even Derek got off the couch before the end of the night.

It was during one of his dances with Derek that the room around Stiles began to spin. At first, he thought it was the club revolving around _him_ , and then he realized that he couldn’t stand up straight.

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ shoulder and led him back down the first floor of the club. Stiles was about to ask if they were going to dance down here when he was hit with a blast of cold night air followed a moment later by bulbs flashing in his eyes. He pawed at the air like he could stop them.

"Derek," Stiles whined, burying his face in his boyfriend’s side. “Make it stop.” This world spun on its axis as he was hoisted up into Derek’s arms.

"No," Stiles groaned, "gonna be sick." As he felt himself begin to heave all the alcohol he drank that night, he prayed he wasn't throwing up on Derek.

*

Stiles woke up with his face smashed in a red silk pillow. He jerked back in surprise, but that made the pounding in his head worse. Groaning, he laid back down.

"Here. You need to drink some water." A glass entered his field of vision. Stiles moaned something that could've been words and swatted at the glass.

"Come on." A hand slid under his neck encourage him to sit up. Two pills, followed by a glass of water, nudged at his lips. When the pills were swallowed, Stiles was lowered back to the bed. His eyes blinked open, and he was surprised to find Derek standing next to the bed.

"What are you doing here?"

Derek smoothed the hair back from Stiles’ sweaty forehead. "You're in my bed."

Embarrassment flooded Stiles body, and he closed his eyes. "How much did I drink last night?"

"I don't know," Derek said, "but you threw up all over me on the way out of the club and twice more in the limo."

Stiles wanted to die. Surely, Derek would want him to leave after this stunt. He opened his eyes. "Derek, I'm so sorry. I’ll—”

"Don't worry about it. I was more concerned about you. I put you in here so I could keep an eye on you. Lydia spent the night with Allison again."

"What time is it? What time did we get back?"

"It's a little after 11. We got home about 3:30. I practically had to lock Scott in your room to keep him away.”

"Oh, no! Scott!" Stiles shot up, setting off the pounding in his head again.

"Calm down," Derek said. "Jennifer rescheduled his flight. He doesn't have to leave for the airport until four. You should be out of bed by then."

Stiles grumbled in reply.

*

All of the partners and Derek went outside to see Scott off. Even Stiles managed to drag himself out of bed, although he was still wearing a robe and bunny slippers (a gift from Lydia).

"Take care of yourself, okay?" Scott said as they hugged.

"I'll be fine," Stiles replied. "Just no more accepting drinks from Jackson."

The other Partner had already apologized for talking Stiles into the shots. On top of that, Derek forbade Stiles from drinking and warned the others not to let or encourage him.

“Easy, Stilinski. You got to sleep in Derek’s room on my birthday.”

"You're welcome back here any time, Scott,” Derek said.

"The Midsummer Night’s Dream party is in about a month," Allison added. "You really should come back for that."

“I’ll do my best." Scott give them a crooked smile and climbed into the waiting limo.

As he watched the car pull away, Stiles felt something in his heart clench, but it wasn't as bad as when he first left Beacon Hills.

*

Stiles got a call from his dad the next morning. “Hey, Pops, what’s up?”

"Please tell me that I saw some other Stiles Stilinski on the cover of the tabloids at the grocery store this morning."

Stiles’ stomach clenched. “I—uh . . . was going to tell you about that."

“Before or after I read about you and Derek Hale getting married in Las Vegas?"

"Well, we didn't get married—“

“You went to _Vegas_?”

“Not last night! Would it help if I told you Scott was here with me?”

"Why don't you start from beginning?"

So Stiles told his dad the story—the important parts, at least. He did his best to glance over the bit at the club, not that he remembered much of it.

The weight of his Dad’s sigh echoed through the phone.

"I didn't see the picture. Should I even ask?"

"Do you remember Derek Hill carrying carrying you when you threw up on him?"

Stiles winced. "Yeah, I shouldn't have."

"Asked or thrown up on—never mind. Are you at least safe? Happy?"

Stiles’ gaze softened. "Yeah, Dad. I am. And actually, Derek wants you to come visit. We’re… uh… having a party in a month, if you want to come." Stiles regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, but it was too late to take them back.

"Is a sex party?"

"What? No! Dad, no. I don't know what you heard, but – no. It's the Midsummer Night’s Dream party."

His dad grunted in reply.

"Or you can come down just because it's Tuesday. You're welcome here any time."

“I’ll think about it. Keep me in the loop, okay, Stiles? I don't want to read in some magazine about an . . . ass tattoo or something."

“Dad,” Stiles drawled.

"I mean it, Stiles. You’re going to send me to an early grave."

"No more surprises. I promise."

"I love you, kid."

"I love you, too, Dad." Stiles hung up the phone. He felt simultaneously lighter and more weighted.

*

After the phone call, Stiles caught up with Lydia downstairs. "Do you think I could go to work with you?"

Lydia started to laugh until she realized Stiles’ expression hadn't changed. "Oh, you're serious."

"I know I don't have a degree in journalism, or anything, and I'm not asking for a job, but to be honest: I've gotten kind of bored just laying around the mansion."

"Okay." Lydia tucked her hair behind her ear. "I'm leaving at 7:15 tomorrow morning. If you're not downstairs when I get there, I'll leave without you."

*

The drive from the mansion to the studio took about 20 minutes with traffic. Lydia liked to arrive early enough to start work at eight, after a quick stop at Starbucks.

At the studio, Lydia led Stiles to an office on the second floor. The decor was tasteful, yet reserved. In the center of the room was a big wooden desk in front of which set a pair of overstuffed white chairs. Stiles was surprised to see that Lydia had framed and hung all of the issues of _Halefire_ upon the cover of which she was featured. He saw one of Lydia and all Derek’s current partners, a couple of just Lydia and Allison, and a few with people he didn't recognize. One of them was of Lydia and Paige. In Stiles’ opinion, they made a stunning couple.

"Are all these people former Partners?"

"Not all of them." She pointed to one of her with a pair of twins. “That's Ethan and Aiden. They’re models we hired just for this shoot."

"Do you like modeling?” Stiles asked. Despite the number of covers she’d done, she didn't seem very enthused about the print work.

Lydia huffed out a breath as she sat down behind her desk. "I did most of them for Derek. The second one I did with Allison—“ She pointed to a cover where she and Allison were blowing bubbles at the camera. Their breasts had been dipped in candy sprinkles. “—was our idea. It's my favorite of all the shoots I've done.” Lydia’s voice trailed off at the end of her sentence. Her lip curled and her eyes narrowed.

Stiles’s heart clenched.

“We should shoot you today."

Stiles shook his head. "Oh, no. No, that's not why I'm here. I just wanted to hang out while you worked… Get out of the mansion for a few hours."

Lydia raised an eyebrow. "You can take one of the cars. You're not a prisoner."

"Yeah, but I don't really have any friends down here but you guys." Stiles dropped down into one of the chairs in front of Lydia’s desk.

"All the more reason for you to shoot. Come on, we’ve all done it. Plus, Paige is shooting this morning, so you can watch her first. You're going to look amazing, and it will be a nice surprise for Derek."

"Because that worked out so well last time," Stiles said, thinking of the bathing suit incident.

"As I remember it, you got a trip to Vegas."

Stiles had to concede that one, but he didn't want to give Lydia more license to strip him down and take pictures of his nude body.

*

Watching Paige model was so much was different this time. For one, Lydia was overseeing the shoot, and for two, Paige was alone. The set was decorated like a cabin in the woods, complete with fake snow. It had a much more playful feel than her set with Isaac. "Is it weird, though, that she is taking her clothes off in what would actually be like 20-30 degree weather?"

Lydia gave him a sideways glance. "Our readers aren’t that concerned with continuity."

 

Stiles sat at the edges of the set as Lydia directed Paige to move her chin like this, hold her hand like that. It was interesting, but he wasn't quite prepared when Lydia turned and asked if he wanted to jump in the shot.

"No, that's okay." Stiles fought to keep his gaze on her eyes and not her . . . assets.

"Come on, Stiles," Page said. "I don't bite." Despite wearing only a pair of unbuttoned jeans shorts and furry boots, she emitted twice the confidence that Stiles felt.

"Really, I'm good.”

"I'm not taking no for an answer, Stiles," Lydia said.

He knew it was a losing battle, and he curled his lip in defiance. "I'm not taking off my pants."

"That's fine.” Lydia smirked at him. “But I want you shirtless."

He had already been paraded around in a pair of swim trunks and photographed drunk and puking. What was a few shirtless photographs?

"You owe me," Stiles growled. He pulled a T-shirt over his head and stalked across the set towards Paige. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Start by facing me," Lydia said. "Put your arms around Paige—pretend she’s Derek."

Although Stiles felt like the the most fumbling awkward ass, Lydia was raving from her position next to the photographer. "Kiss her, Stiles!"

The shock showed on his face, but Paige cupped his cheek. Her hands were soft.

"It's just acting," she whispered.

Before Stiles could reply, Paige kissed him, and his world tilted on its axis. His mind stuttered like an engine running out of gas. _I’m kissing Paige. I'm kissing Derek's ex-girlfriend_.


	8. Stiles Takes a Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kind words. I really cannot express how much I am loving this story. Chapter 9 has (regrettably) not yet been written, but I'm working on it diligently! My goal is to post at least one chapter a week (two if I'm on a roll!) and I hope to have this finished by the end of November, to coincide with NaNoWriMo. 
> 
> And I've also begun to watch S5 (finally) and I'm shocked that I am actually really enjoying this season and I don't want to put my foot through my screen. :D

Lydia showed Derek the proofs before Stiles had an opportunity to explain himself.

"It was her idea, and then Paige just grabbed my face. I didn't have anything to do--"

"Stiles," Derek said. "It's okay. I like the shot."

Stiles quirked an eyebrow. "You do?"

"I do. Actually, I would like to reshoot the spread with you in it. Tomorrow, if you're up for it."

The word "surprise" was not enough to express what Stiles felt. It took him several tries to spit out words. While he struggled, Lydia and Derek just stared at him, which only made it worse. "Do I have to?"

"Not if you don't want to," Derek said.

Lydia slid the proofs across the desk. "Before you make up your mind, Stiles, just take a look at these."

Stiles' eyes skittered over the pictures. He didn't even recognize himself. Paige was the star of the photo: her red lips and long porcelain lines. But Stiles was more than an accessory. His hands were clutching Paige's shoulder like she was his lifeline. Against her smooth skin, Stiles' moles stood out in stark relief against his own.

In spite of his flaws, he looked like a model.

"Okay," Stiles said. "I guess."

"Fantastic."

Derek and Lydia's twin smiles sent a shiver down Stiles' spine.

*

Having Derek watch the shoot with Paige was twice as nerve-wracking as it had been with Lydia. Already, Stiles had been made up, undressed, redressed, and propped next to Paige on her set from the other day.

"Relax, Stiles," Lydia said. "You look like someone is coming at you with a knife. Put your arms around her."

Although he did as he was told, Stiles' movements were tense and jerky. Painful awareness of the people staring at them kept Stiles from letting go.

"Kiss him, Paige."

Stiles' eyes closed reflexively, but he couldn't make himself kiss her back.

"Okay, stop. Just stop."

At the sound of Derek's voice, Stiles' eyes popped open to find his boyfriend striding forward. Reflexively, Stiles released Paige and took a step back.

"No," Derek said in a tone he would use to correct a child. He pressed his hand against the small of Stiles’ back and pushed him towards Paige. "Close your eyes."

Stiles did. He started when he felt Derek's knuckles brush his cheek.

"Trust me," Derek whispered into his ear.

Stiles' thoughts shifted to Derek, and one inch at a time, he relaxed. He wrapped his arms more tightly around Paige and reeled her in to his body. The feeling of her curves prevented him from pretending she was Derek, but Lydia's commentary became more positive.

"Move your hand down, Stiles. Cup her butt. Grab it, actually, like you're using it to pull her against you."

Taking direction while kissing Paige felt weird. Stiles had to resist the urge to pull away and burst out laughing. He didn't want to embarrass himself. He most definitely did not want to embarrass Derek.

Paige ended the kiss, and Stiles opened his eyes.

"You're getting it," Paige whispered. She shifted her body so that she was leaning into Stiles' bare chest.

It got easier from there.

Stiles learned how to keep his face turned towards the light and move in small increments so the camera would have multiple shots. It wasn't perfect, but by the time Derek told them to take a break, Stiles felt like he'd done well.

Lydia handed him a robe. ”Ready to take your pants off?"

At Stiles' look of horror, Derek wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close. "Don't scar him, Lyds. I want to shoot this beautifully photogenic face again."

Stiles twisted away from Derek. "I don't think I want to do this again."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Because I'm not comfortable half-naked in front of a camera."

*

The next time Stiles saw one of the pictures from his set with Paige was when Lydia handed him a mock-up of the cover. It was one of the shots of them kissing.

"I'm going to be in the magazine?" Stiles took the mock with shaking hands.

"Well, no." Lydia frowned. "Derek might put the picture in as like a blurb about Paige's shoot or something, but we dont have a complete spread--a complete story. Does that make sense?"

"Is it because I didn't take off my pants?"

"Have you read _Halefire_?" Lydia quirked an eyebrow. "All jokes aside, this is a nude, soft-core magazine. Anyone who says they read it for the articles is lying. I would love to publish this shot. _Derek_ would love to put you in the magazine. But unless you're willing to pose with Paige in the buff, it's just not going to happen."

"Thanks." Stiles drew out the word like his mouth didn't want to let it go.

Lydia pressed her lips together in a sympathetic smile. "Drop trou and I'll rush you back to the studio."

  
  
Stiles tried not to let what happened with the photoshoot bother him, but he couldn't help it. He felt pushed into it from the beginning, and for what?

In an effort to mitigate the storm inside his head, he shuffled into Jennifer's office. She was the only one he felt could listen without a vested interest in the outcome.

"Well, you don't look like your usual cheerful self."

Even though he came here to talk, it was hard for Stiles to get the words out. "Did you see the proof of me and Paige?"

"Yeah, Lydia showed it to me. You looked good, sweet cheeks. Why the long face?”

"They're not putting me in the magazine."

"Okay." Jennifer didn't look surprised, and that made Stiles feel worse. “But, you didn't come here to be in the magazine, did you?"

"Well, no." Nervous, Stiles chewed at his lip. “It upsets me that I don't know why I'm upset."

"Do you want to be in the magazine?"

"Well, I didn't before, but I wouldn't hate if this picture was. I didn't really feel comfortable in front of the camera. Lydia told me to come back when I'm ready to quote 'drop trou.'"

Jennifer reached out and patted his hand. "It's intoxicating, isn't it?"

"Yeah, kind of. I've never seen myself like that. Have you ever been in the magazine?"

"No, honey. I've got an MBA. The only thing of mine Derek wants to photograph is the monthly earnings report."

Stiles cracked a smile. "Thanks for listening. This whole thing is just . . . "

"It's a lot to deal with. Come see me any time."

*

Hoping he wasn't interrupting, Stiles knocked on Derek's bedroom door.

When he heard Derek shout, “Come in!” Stiles turned the doorknob at a glacial pace and opened the door like he expected to find a monster behind it.

Only Derek was lurking in the room. He was looking at a series of proofs from Paige's shoot that were spread across the floor. He looked up, and his face softened when he saw that his visitor was Stiles.

"I can come back later." Stiles hadn't moved any farther into the room.

"No, no." Derek stood up. He crossed the room in three quick strides. "Come in, sit down." He wrapped his long fingers around Stiles' wrist, but he didn't tug; he just held on.

Before he could stop himself, Stiles pulled Derek into a hug and tucked his face into the hollow of Derek's shoulder. One of Derek's hands came up to stroke down Stiles' back.

"Is everything okay?" Derek asked after a moment.

Stiles lifted his face. His eyes flicked back and forth as they searched Derek's face. "I just . . . needed you."

"Okay," Derek said. "You've got me, Stiles."

"Can I steal you? Just for the afternoon? Just us? Can we go somewhere?”

"I--" Derek opened his mouth like he was going to say no. "Okay. Let me--actually, I don't need to change. This is good, right?" Derek always looked impeccable. Today, he was wearing a pair of dark grey lounge pants and a _Halefire_ t-shirt.

"You look perfect." Stiles was just happy that Derek was making time for him.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere.” Stiles amber eyes shined with desperation.

Derek led him down to the massive garage next to the mansion. Inside, Stiles saw a little blue Porsche, a sleek black Camaro, a canary yellow Maserati, and a red Aston Martin.

"Where's my Jeep?"

Derek picked up Stiles' hand and kissed his knuckles. "In garage two. These are my cars. Which one do you want to take?"

Stiles eyes widened. He'd never been in any car like the ones in front of him, so the choice was difficult.

"That one." He pointed at the Maserati. "I like yellow."

"So do I." Derek opened a lockbox on the wall and removed a key. "I bought this car right after-well, right after I moved back into the mansion." He unlocked the doors and they both climbed in.

The car still smelled like new, and the leather seats were smooth like butter. It purred to life when Derek turned the ignition. Stiles felt a thrill of excitement rush through his body.

Derek eased the car out of the garage and down the long, sloping driveway. ”Where are we headed?"

"I don't care,"

So Derek drove.

 

Stiles began to relax once they were on the highway. “What was it like growing up in the mansion?”

"Not as exciting as you think. The reason my parents bought it in the first place was because it doubled as a studio and it had enough rooms to house visiting models. The fitness room downstairs? That used to be the studio."

"Wow. But wasn't it exciting to be surrounded by all of . . . that?"

Derek shrugged. "It was just my life. Plus, my sisters and I weren't allowed in the basement. My parents didn't think we needed to see naked people running around."

A short, sharp laugh burst out of Stiles' throat. "That's a good point. My dad would be the same way. Truth be told, he was pretty pissed when he saw that picture of us outside of _Hyde_." It felt good to admit that. "I don't blame him. That wasn't my finest moment, either. Well, that may have been the first time I talked to him about living in the mansion."

"That's surprising. I figured you were closer to your dad than that."

"I am. I just . . . How do I say, 'Hey, Dad. Remember that job interview? Well, it was at the Hale mansion, and I actually became one of Derek Hale's Partners'?"

Derek glanced at him. "Just like that?"

"Easy for you to say. Your--" Stiles swallowed the words down. Having lost his own mother, he was usually much more aware of his mouth than to say something like that.

"It's okay." Derek reached over and curled his fingers around Stiles' thigh.

 

Derek stopped the car and parked in an empty space on the street.

Out the window, Stiles saw a sign for 'Burgers -- Shakes -- Fries.' He turned to Derek with a wide smile. "You brought me to a burger joint."

Derek leaned over the console for a kiss. "Ennis told me it's what you order most often."

"You're sneaky," Stiles said. "I like it."

 _Barry's Burgers_ were made to order, and the toppings ranged from the typical (ketchup and pickles) to the exotic (bean sprouts and candied apples). Stiles topped his with hot sauce and crispy fried onions.

They sat at one of the bistro tables along the wall opposite the counter. An order of chili cheese fries sat between them.

"How did you know this was exactly what I needed?" Stiles asked.

"I don't think you give me enough credit." Derek snagged a French fry. "I could tell you needed to get out of the house."

Stiles' heart swelled with affection. He needed moments like this, and he was willing to take them any way he could get them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you're enjoying this fic. I love reading your comments and theories. ^_^
> 
> Next up? Prep for the big ole Midsummer Night's Dream party. :D


	9. A Midsummer Night's Dream Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm cutting this chapter in half because it's actually twice as long as usual. I promise folks, things are going to heat up in the next bit. 
> 
> The Sterek-er Sterek has been written, I promise! 
> 
> I also (mentally) wrote an ending to this fic. (YAY!) I will say, though, that we're probably about 1/3 of the way through. This is going to be novel-length when it's done, and I couldn't be more excited.

The costumes for the Midsummer Night’s Dream party were much more involved than the ones for the Fourth of July. Instead of being dragged to some lingerie store in West Hollywood, Stiles was summoned to the Halefire studio to meet with Lydia and Derek. The costume designer, Libby, was old enough to be Stiles’ grandmother. She wore big plastic yellow sunglasses, and her grey hair stuck out like it had been frightened away from her head. 

“Okay, sweet cheeks, drop ‘em.” 

Stiles looked horrified. “Why is _everyone_ trying to get me naked?” 

“You’re in a porn studio,” Libby stage whispered. 

Lydia hid her smirk behind a well-manicured hand. 

“Stiles, you can keep your underwear on,” Derek said. 

Feeling a blush heat his cheeks, Stiles stripped down. He kept telling himself that he would be fine. Libby was a professional, Derek was his boyfriend, and Lydia . . . well, she was Lydia. 

Libby took her measurements quickly, and Stiles was surprised when she handed him a tiny pair of shorts.

He stretched the waistband between his hands. “You have got to be kidding me.” 

“You and Jackson are both wearing them, plus, you’ll have body paint and a few extra . . . accoutrements,” Derek said. 

“If you say ‘nipple tassels,’ I swear to God, I’ll drop these shorts and walk out of your life.” 

Smiling, Derek shook his head. “No, Stiles. You’re not wearing nipple tassels. We were thinking something like . . . rope.” 

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re going to tie me up instead.” 

Lydia smacked his ass. “Go change so we can see how good those look on you.” 

*

Although the party wasn’t due to start until nine, Stiles and the other Partners started to get ready around six. They were gathered downstairs in the studio-cum-gym, along with make-up artists and hair stylists and a slew of models. 

Amidst the chaos and chatter, Stiles stood nearly naked wearing only his tiny shorts in front of a dark-skinned girl named Braeden. She had one side of her head shaved, and the rest cascaded over her shoulder in a silky black wave. Her stare was intense like she had been in the military, and Stiles hoped the scrutiny was just to ensure she did the best work. Considering she worked for Derek, it was more likely the latter. 

Without much of an introduction, she began to brush sliver powder down Stiles’ cheek. 

“Are you dressing me up as the Tin Man, or something?” 

Braeden’s brush strokes paused. “Or something.” The corner of her lip twitched in the hint of a smile. She wasn’t much of a talker. 

Stiles glanced around the room. Jackson was next to him, receiving a similar treatment in gold. Seated against a bank of mirrors brought in for the occasion, the girls were getting their hair and make-up done. They had the luxury of robes, but at least Stiles didn’t have to wear fake eyelashes. They looked like they would hurt coming back off. 

“Turn around,” Braeden said. 

From what Stiles could see, he was dusted in silver streaks that formed no discernible pattern, yet seemed to make sense. The brush strokes tickled the backs of his knees. He might not be wearing fake eyelashes, but getting this body paint off was going to be a bitch. 

When Braeden was done with the make-up, she began to wind a silver robe up one of Stiles’ legs. 

“Derek definitely wasn’t kidding about tying me up, was he?” 

“It’s a Greco-Roman theme,” Jackson said. Stiles looked over at the blond, who was giving him a look. “Haven’t you figured that out?” 

“That would explain why I’m being dressed like a gladiator slave boy,” Stiles said dryly. 

Braeden tied the rope off around Stiles’ upper thigh and stood up. “You’re done. Try not to touch anything for the next 30 minutes. Your paint is still drying.” 

“Awesome.” Stiles stretched his fingers out in exaggeration as he tiptoed away. Walking without letting his legs graze one another made the shorts ride up between his asscheeks. He gritted his teeth. Now he had to set like a human art project. He gingerly sidestepped both male and female models who were being painted. 

Braeden moved on to a girl who Stiles realized was wearing not a stitch of clothing. It was then that he realized the other models walking around in what looked like fancy lingerie were wearing no more than a few coats of paint. Impressive and somehow classy. 

Only the male models were wearing tiny thongs. Stiles supposed it was much harder to hide a swinging dick and balls with a bit of body paint and rhinestones. He shuddered to think that Derek could have dressed him like that, too. 

One of the models said his name, and it took him a minute to realize the girl painted in a pinky teddy with white stockings was Paige. 

“Wow,” Stiles said unable to keep himself from looking her up and down. “Is that—”

“All paint?” Paige smiled. She popped her heel. “Everything except my shoes.” 

“Impressive.” 

“I like yours, too.” Paige reached out to touch the paint on Stiles’ cheek, but thought better of it and pulled away. 

Isaac was lurking behind her. Rather than lingerie, his paint made it look like he was wearing a 49ers football jersey and a pair of tiny shorts like Stiles. Isaac’s shorts were definitely paint, and it took all of Stiles’ willpower not to check out the other man’s package. 

“Nice paint,” Stiles said. He fought to keep his expression serious. 

“You, too.” Isaac gave him a once-over that showed he felt much more comfortable in a thong than Stiles did in shorts. 

Not for the first time, Stiles wished for one of the girls’ silky black robes. 

*

Derek and his Partners reassembled in the foyer for pictures. This time, they didn’t hold a receiving line because the guest list was over a thousand. The other Partners looked suitably impressive, but it was Derek who really took Stiles’ breath away. With each movement he made, his black leather pants creaked in protest. The thought of Derek squeezing into them was more arresting than the idea of his bare skin covered in paint. Both he and Lydia were wearing gold laurel wreaths, as they were presiding over the evening as Lord and Lady. Being the number one Parter certainly had its benefits. 

“Get a little closer,” the photographer said. “Let’s see some love.” 

Stiles slid his arms around Allison’s bare waist and took a step closer to her. Allison’s skin was warm, and her hair smelled like flowers. Stiles prayed he didn’t get an awkward boner. His fingertips brushed the edge of Allison’s silver mesh skirt, and he jerked away like he’d been burned. 

“Okay, I think we got it.” The photographer lowered his camera. 

Derek took Lydia by the hand. “Let’s go party.” 

Two by two, they walked outside. Stiles felt like a trussed up lamb being led to slaughter.

A giant tent had been erected across the expansive backyard. Beneath its canvas top, thousands of tiny lights gave the party a mystical, ethereal glow. Guests were seated on cushions and low couches. Some shared hookahs, and the drinks flowed freely. Stiles had never seen so much bare skin at a party before. In the center of it all was a U-shaped couch big enough to fit the six of them. 

Stiles took his place on the end. He moved a velvet-fringed pillow so he could sit down. The air around them was hazy with smoke and perfume. Stiles felt himself growing lightheaded. He leaned over Allison and Lydia to reach Derek’s ear. 

“I feel like I fell into a circle of mushrooms.” 

Derek smirked. “That’s the idea.” 

The crowd around them pulsed and gyrated like a living thing. Every few minutes, it would spit out another guest—a celebrity, a model—to greet Derek. Usually, they would give the Partners a polite greeting unless they had met before. The girls were given compliments on their costumes. Stiles couldn’t speak for Jackson, but he felt like little more than an accessory. 

Erica was the first to abandon the couch. 

Her golden lycra-covered ass disappeared into the crowd with a sway of her hips. Stiles watched her go with a twinge of jealousy. Whether it was because she had abandoned the others or because she had the confidence to do so, he couldn’t be sure. 

Allison nudged him. “I think that’s Scott.” She pointed to a boy in the crowd wearing Snoopy boxers and a red silk robe that looked like it had come out of Lydia’s closet. 

With a laugh, Stiles dropped his head. “That’s him.” Leave it to his best friend to show up to one of the sexiest parties in the country dressed like he was hanging out at home alone on a Friday night. He had arrived back at the mansion the night before, but they had been too busy ordering food from the kitchen and playing video games to talk about costumes for the party. Stiles sort of wished he would have mentioned something about it, but then again, Scott was the kind of person who marched to the beat of his own drum. It was part of what drew them together. 

Stiles leaned over Allison to meet Derek’s gaze. “Is it okay if I go talk to Scott?” 

“Of course.” Derek nodded his encouragement. “Go ahead. It’s your party, too, Stiles.” The words reverberated in Stiles’ soul. To this point, he hadn’t felt like anything or any _one_ here—at the mansion—were just his or his at all. Growing up an only child meant that he didn’t have to share. He didn’t mind sharing, though. He and Scott frequently split their lunches when they were in elementary school so they had more variety. But variety was not what Stiles had been feeling here. ‘Accessory’ was a better word. 

Now, painted like a trollop, Stiles took a step towards Scott, his lifetime lunch buddy, and felt the break of invisible chains that had been holding him back. Stiles could have sworn he heard something snap. “I can’t believe you’re wearing those ridiculous boxers.” 

Scott slung an arm around Stiles’ neck and dragged him further into the ocean of bodies. Derek and the others slipped from view like a tiny life raft adrift at sea. 

Several people stopped them to take selfies with Stiles, which surprised him to no end. His newly-appointed celebrity status still baffled him, especially considering most people didn’t even know his name. Most of the time they just called him “Derek’s New Partner.” 

“Dude, you’re famous!” Scott exclaimed as a girl wearing a bikini two sizes too small released Stiles from a hug. 

Stiles waved the girl off with a smile. “Derek’s famous. I’m just his boyfriend. These people don’t care about me. They just want to be able to tell their friends they met one of Derek Hale’s Partners.” 

“Dude, I’d give anything to trade places with you!” Scott paused, his face screwed up in concentration. “Actually, no, I wouldn’t. I’d still be at this party, and I wouldn’t have to suck Derek’s dick.” 

Indignation swelled in Stiles’ chest. “Derek and I are not having sex!” For some reason, it irritated him that everyone assumed they were. 

Several guests eyed Stiles curiously as they walked by. 

“Hey, I got it. Nothing to be ashamed of. Dude, we’re at _Halefire’s_ Midsummer Night’s Dream part! The night can only get better!” Scott’s eyes grew wide enough to fall out of his head as he caught sight of something over Stiles’ shoulder. “And it just did. Sorry, buddy, I gotta go.” 

Stiles spun around to watch as Scott sidled up to Allison. Her face lit up, and Stiles’ stomach dropped. This could only end badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take the time to comment if you enjoyed this! Thanks for reading! xx


	10. A Midsummer Night's Dream Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously don't know what took me so long to post this. I just finished writing (still need to type) chapter 11 and realised my faux pas. Ugh. 
> 
> Happy holidays, everyone.

Suddenly, Stiles’ view was blocked by two pairs of firm, appealing breasts. One set belonged to Cora, and the other to a girl who looked like she could be a Hale sister Stiles had not yet met. The girls wore twin smiles that sent a shiver down Stiles’ spine. 

“What’s going on, Stiles?” Cora asked. “You look like someone just pissed in your Wheaties. Aren’t you having fun?” 

“Of course. Who’s your friend?” 

“I’m Malia,” she stuck out her hand for Stiles to shake. “I’m Cora’s cousin.”

“Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise. I’ve heard so much about Derek’s new Partner.” Malia gave him a once-over that made him only slightly uncomfortable. “Do you dance?” 

“I guess.” 

“Great!” Cora grabbed him by the arm and sandwiched him between her and her cousin. 

“You don’t like to party, do you?” Malia whispered into his ear. 

Stiles shook his head. “What makes you say that?” 

“Well, you don’t drink.” She spun him around so that they were face to face and his back was to Cora. “And you definitely don’t dance.” 

“I’m dancing right now.” Raising his arms, Stiles flailed a bit in a weak parody of the movement around him. 

“There you are!” A hand reached between the girls and yanked Stiles away from them. It was Lydia. “Come on. We need to do some pictures with a contest winner.” 

A thousand questions flooded his mind, but Stiles couldn’t shout over the crowd to ask any. 

When they returned to the couch where Derek sat, Lydia huffed in irritation. All the other Partners had already assembled. 

“I found him dancing with Cora and Malia.” The tone of her voice said that Stiles was somehow at fault. 

“This is Matt.” Lydia steered Stiles towards an eager-looking young man who wore a camera around his neck. “He won a contest, and he wants to take some pictures of us.” 

“Not with us?”

Lydia waved a hand like it didn’t make a different. Strange request, but Stiles took his seat next to Allison. Despite his best efforts, neither his preconceived notions, nor his interpretations of life at the Mansion were often accurate. He was left to his own devices just to be reeled back in like he’d disobeyed a direct order. This rollercoaster was giving him whiplash. 

“Stiles?” Matt said. 

Stiles blinked. “Yeah? Sorry.” He still wasn’t accustomed to following directions. Never had been, actually. 

“Could you stand up for just a minute?” 

“Sure.” Stiles stood up, waiting for Matt to give him another directive. But when the kid continued to take pictures without him in the frame, Stiles realized he wasn’t wanted. He crossed his arms around his bare torso. 

On the couch, the remaining Partners crowded close to Derek. They looked so happy and cozy and perfect. 

Matt turned to him. “Actually, I’m done with you.” 

Unnoticed, Stiles slipped away from the group and back into the crowd. Had he been a drinker, he would have grabbed a glass from one of the many waiters boasting trays of bubbling champagne and mixed cocktails. One for each hand. 

As it was, he escaped from the tent and into the dark backyard beyond the lights. The hedges casted shadows across the grass, and it was into one of these hidden spots that Stiles dropped, heedless of the dew soaking the seat of his lycra shorts. He was an accessory, nothing more. Yet, he couldn’t decide what hurt worse: Matt’s dismissal or Derek’s acceptance of it. 

It didn’t matter. 

Stiles decided he would stay long enough to find his next step and then he’d be gone, leaving Derek and _Halefire_ behind like a distant memory. 

The giggles and whispers of a couple seeking solitude interrupted his reverie. Pulling his knees to his chest, Stiles sought to make himself as small as possible. 

When the couple stopped close enough for him to hear one of them whisper, “Oh, Baby,” he knew he had to move or else be forced t listen to someone else have sex. 

As he rose to his feet, he heard the guy moan “ _Erica_ ,” and Stiles froze. 

No way. 

There were tons of women here. 

Surely, there was more than one Erica. 

“You’ve got to be quiet,” she replied, and it was unmistakably Erica Reyes’s voice. 

Stiles edged closer to the bush. He couldn’t see much, but he had to know. 

The couple began kissing. This was Stiles’ chance, but there was a branch in his way. He needed to do this without being seen. 

He saw a flash of blond hair, the sharp angle of a cheekbone. Then, the woman tossed her head back so the man could kiss her neck. That was Erica. And the man kissing her was definitely not Derek. 

Stiles stepped back. He felt sick to his stomach. 

Rather than walk back through the party, he took the long way around to the side door used by the kitchen staff. Ennis gave him an odd look as he slipped inside. 

“I’m not feeling well,” Stiles said before the butler could ask any questions. Besides, it wasn’t a lie. 

Ennis didn’t miss a beat. “Can I get you something, Sir?” 

“No thanks,” was on his tongue, but Stiles changed his mind just before his spoke. “Can you make me some tea?” 

“Of course. Would you like to wait for it, or should I send it up?” 

“Send it up,” Stiles said. “I’m going to take a shower, so you can just set it on my nightstand.” 

He saw quite a few guests wandering through the mansion as he made his way up to his room. He half-expected to find someone fucking on his bed, but thankfully, there was a butler stationed at the staircase to keep any curious party-goers out of their private quarters. 

Stiles shut the door to his room with a sigh. He wanted nothing more than to scrub everything about this night from his memory. 

While he was in the shower, the door to his bedroom opened and closed. Skin pink from scrubbing away silver paint, Stiles stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. He walked into the bedroom to find his tea in Derek’s hands. 

“What are you doing here?” Stiles’ hand clenched around the knot holding his towel on. 

“You disappeared. Jackson said he saw you leave the tent. I know that attending parties is one of the requirements of being my Partner, but if you didn’t want to be there, all you had to do was say something.” 

Stiles turned away and pulled a pair of underwear on beneath his towel. He hung the towel on the back of his closet door. Derek was still wearing his leather pants—and only that. It unnerved Stiles for some reason. 

With no other options to stall, Stiles huffed out a breath and sat down at his desk. “I was fine until that kid decided he didn’t want me in the picture. It’s hard enough being the newest and most awkward. Add insult to injury and you’ve got me right back where I was in high school, only this time, I actually thought I was supposed to sit at the popular table.” 

Derek frowned. The expression looked wrong on his beautiful face. “You shouldn’t care what that kid thinks. It was just a couple of pictures. I don’t understand why it bothered you so much.” 

_Because I wasn’t included. Because I saw Erica fucking some other guy in the bushes. Because I’m worried I’m falling in love with you._

But he didn’t say any of these things. 

“Stiles, I’m really trying here, but you’ve got to give me something to work with.” 

When the Partners asked him later why he did it, Stiles would say he didn’t know. It just felt right at the time. 

He surged forward into Derek, pushing him soundly against the bed and kissing him like Derek was a buffet for a man starved. When Stiles did finally come up for air, he panted against Derek’s lips. They didn’t really talk after that. 

Stiles shimmied out of his underwear the best he could without getting off of Derek’s body. Why had he put them on, anyway? 

Derek’s pants proved much more difficult. 

“How did you get these on in the first place?” 

“Carefully.” Derek grunted as Stiles peeled the pants down. He was bare underneath, not that he would have been able to fit even a thong beneath them. 

Stiles keep himself from staring. Derek’s body was like something out of a movie—or a copy of _Halefire_. Unlike Jackson’s smooth-shaven skin, Derek was dusted with a smattering of dark hair across his arms and legs. His bare chest, which Stiles had already been privy to on more than one occasion, was firm and tanned. The coarse hair between his pectorals served well to emphasize Derek’s masculinity. 

Lower, his cock sat quiescent in a neatly-trimmed bed of pubic hair. Stiles was grateful to see that Derek didn’t shear himself. A man with that much body hair would look ridiculous with just his balls shaved. As his eyes travelled back up Derek’s body, Stiles found Derek watching him intently. 

With a satisfied sigh, Stiles dropped down on top of Derek. Bare skin met bare skin. Stiles’ dick took a firm interest in the proceedings where it lay between Derek’s dick and his hip. 

Stiles tucked his face against Derek’s neck. “I want to blow you.” 

Derek linked his hands behind Stiles’ back. “If that’s what you want, it’s okay with me.” He flexed his hips, pushing the hardening line of his cock against Stiles’ body. 

Needing no additional encouragement, Stiles began to lick and kiss his way down Derek’s chest. He took his time mapping the contours with his mouth and tried not to think about how many other people had done this. 

While Stiles wasn’t one to boast about his dick sucking skills, he also never left his partners unsatisfied. 

Derek was no exception. 

Stiles brought him off with Derek’s hands fisted in Stiles’ hair. Whether it was for stability or direction, Stiles could only guess. 

Derek tugged Stiles back up so they could kiss again. The thought that Derek could taste himself on Stiles’ tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through Stiles’ body. 

Derek broke the kiss and framed Stiles’ face in his hands. “Your turn.” 

Stiles’ heart ticked up a few beats. He was probably going to regret this, but it felt right. “No. Can you just . . . hold me right now? I don’t mean to sound like a girl.” 

The intense look on Derek’s face softened. His thumbs stroked over the stubbled skin of Stiles’ cheeks. “Whatever you need.” 

Rolling to his side, Stiles backed up against Derek, encouraging the other man to wrap an arm around him and spoon them together. 

Stiles closed his eyes. For the first time since moving in to the Mansion, he felt like he belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you're enjoying this. Comments are love! xx


	11. From Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek have a day out together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't kidding about being finished with Chapter 11--enjoy!
> 
> If I'm doing super well, I'll have Chapter 12 out tomorrow. Cross your fingers! Tell you friends! :D :D

In light of his night spent with Derek, Stiles didn’t feel like an outsider on his boyfriend’s sixth anniversary with Lydia. It wasn’t the physical intimacy, either, but the confirmation that Stiles had the right to steal Derek away for the night. None of the other Partners made him feel guilty, which also helped him to relax. If anything, the honeymoon phase for Derek and Stiles (or Stiles at the Mansion) was just beginning. 

For Derek and Lydia’s anniversary, the group went out to dinner and then returned to the Mansion for a movie night. 

Among the many room in the house was an honest-to-goodness theatre with three rows of five seats. 

Lydia and Derek sat in the front, and the others filed in behind them. Since they weren’t at an official function, Stiles found himself sandwiched between Erica and Jackson, a position with which he was not familiar. He didn’t mind them per se, he just found Lydia and Allison to be preferable company. 

The butlers brought each of them their own bowl of popcorn. It was a nice touch as they settled in for Lydia’s favorite movie: _Something Borrowed_. 

Erica leaned over to whisper in Stiles’ ear. “It’s always chick flicks when she gets to choose.” 

Stiles shrugged. He liked “girly” movies, especially when they had a happy ending. 

Only this one didn’t. Not exactly. 

By the end of the movie, Stiles wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry. 

As he watched Derek and Lydia disappear into their bedroom, he found himself wondering how that movie could possibly be Lydia’s favorite. Then again, she was much more comfortable with their polyamory than he was. 

But Stiles was coming around. 

*

Stiles woke suddenly from a very pleasant dream about—

“Derek?” He sat up with a start. Was he still dream, or—no, there was definitely a half-naked Derek laying in his bed staring at him. “Not that Im complaining, but what are you doing here?” 

“Its your day—our day, right?” 

“Yes,” Stiles drawled. He couldn’t tell how naked Derek was, though he could see his bare chest. The rest, naked or otherwise, was hidden beneath the blankets. 

“So.” Derek closed the space between them. Definitely naked. “How do you want to spend our day?” 

Stiles walked his fingertips up the bare stretch of Derek’s bicep. “Don’t you have to work?”

“Nope.” Derek turned his head to kiss Stiles’ fingers. “I took the day off.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Mmhmm.” Derek’s words were muffled as he kissed his way down Stiles’ neck. 

Stiles laid back, allowing Derek to slide on top of him. He let his breath out in a sigh. What a way to wake up. 

He bent his knees to cradle Derek between them. Since Derek liked to sleep in pajama bottoms, there was only a layer of cotton between them. It was enough that Stiles could feel the hot line of Derek’s cock against his own. They hadn’t had sex yet, but their physical relationship had been heating up since the Midsummer party. 

“As sexy as this is, I really need to pee.” 

Reluctantly, Derek rolled away so Stiles could stand up. 

It took him a moment to will his boner down so he could relieve himself. When he came back out of the bathroom, Derek was sprawled across the sheets in what looked like a deliberately decadent pose. 

“You are something else.” Smiling, Stiles shook his head. He pulled a t-shirt on. 

“Have you decided what we’re doing today?” Derek asked. “Since morning sex seems to be out of the question.” 

Stiles’ gaze shifted to picking out a pair of jeans. He would love nothing more than to ride Derek with reckless abandon, but his mind hadn’t yet caught up with his libido. 

*

Although Stiles could have asked Derek to take him anywhere in the world, he made a simple, yet poignant request. 

They easily received clearance to fly into the Beacon Municipal Airport. The flight only took about an hour, and there was a town car waiting for them when they arrived. Stiles wanted to surprise his dad, and he felt a limo would be too flashy. 

They pulled up to the Stilinski home. Stiles jumped out before the driver could reach his door. He wanted to cut his dad off early. 

Sure enough, the sheriff was on the porch before Stiles was halfway up the front steps. 

“Stiles, what are you doing here?” He embraced his son in a hug. 

When they parted, Stiles gestured to Derek, who was hovering at the bottom of the steps. 

John’s expression narrowed. “I guess you better come in.” 

In the kitchen, Stiles busied himself with making coffee while his dad and Derek sat at the kitchen table staring at one another. It was the sheriff who broke the silence. 

“So you’re still with him.” 

Stiles glanced at Derek, unsure at whom the question was directed. John was still looking at Derek. 

“Yes, Sir,” Derek answered. Despite his socioeconomic status, the playboy had been reduced to a young man meeting his boyfriend’s father for the first time. 

Stiles set a cup of coffee in front of each of them and took a seat next to Derek. “We wanted to come see you, since you haven’t met Derek yet.” 

The sheriff grunted. Stiles could tell he was sizing Derek up. “What are your intentions with my son? Last I heard, you were dating four other people.” Right to the point, the senior Stilinski. 

“Well, Dad—“

“I’m talking to Derek.” 

Derek’s expression remained stoic. The silence of the house overwhelmed them in the moments before he spoke. 

“My intentions with Stiles are to care for him and remain in a relationship until one or both of us decide to terminate it.” 

“You make it sound like a business transaction. Are there any plans for marriage in your future?”

Stiles shifted in his chair. He wanted badly to butt in. 

“Well, currently, it’s not legal for me to marry five people.” The corner of Derek’s eye twitched. Stiles could tell he was holding back a smile. Heaven help them if Derek laughed at hsi father. 

“So if you have no intentions of marrying my son, then what incentive does he have for staying with you?”

“What about the fact that I love him?” 

Had Stiles been drinking a cup of coffee, he would have spit it across the table. As it was, he jumped up from the table and accidentally made coffee slosh over the side of his dad’s and Derek’s cups. 

“I didn’t offer you any cream. Dad, we have creamer right?” He jerked open the refrigerator hard enough to knock off a couple of the magnets on the front. “Sorry, Derek, looks like there’s just,” he checked the date on the milk, “never mind, this expired last week. Seriously, Dad?” He shook the carton and watched with disgust as chunks circulated through the liquid. 

“Stiles.” Derek looked over at him. “Come sit down.”

Heart pounding, Stiles did. He looked from his father to Derek. “You’re not going to kill each other, are you?”

The sheriff let out a long-suffering sigh. “Hale, you hurt my boy, and I’ll make it my personal mission to destroy you. I don’t care how rich or powerful you think you are. Do you understand me?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

*

When Stiles and Derek walked into the vet, Scott was in the middle of wrestling an angry cat back into its cage. The moment Scott saw them, he lost his concentration. The cat twisted out of his arms and found cover in the farthest corner of the room. It hissed at the newcomers. 

Scott clapped a hand to the sluggishly bleeding scratch on his arm and greeted his friends with a smile. “I wasn’t expecting you guys.” His face sobered. “Did someone die?”

“No.” Stiles frowned as he pulled his best friend into a hug. “I wanted to come home, and Derek made it happen.” 

“How long are you back?”

“Just today,” Derek said. “I have to get back to work tomorrow.” 

“What time do you get off?” Stiles bounced at Scott’s side like an over-eager puppy. 

“Let me get this cleaned up, and we can go. I was just about to close up for lunch, anyway.” 

“I’ll be in the waiting room,” Derek said. “Let you two catch up.” He looked out of place in his thousand-dollar shoes and sport jacket. 

Stiles followed Scott into the back. He’d been here enough that it felt like he owned the place. “Where’s Deaton?”

“Vacation in Idaho. The first one I’ve convinced him to take since I graduated and switched to full time.” 

Stiles leaned against the counter as he watched Scott clean his scratch. 

“How’s everything down in LA?”

“Why don’t you ask me what you really want to know?” 

Scott turned the water off and dried his hands. “How’s Allison?” 

“She’s good. We went to lunch the other day. She’s still dating Derek, you know.” 

“Funny.” 

“True.” 

“I haven’t done anything.” 

“Yet.”

“What makes you think I will?”

“Because I know you. And I’ve seen the way you look at her. Plus, there’s something else I wanted to tell you, and I needed to do it in person.” 

“Are you moving back? Oh, god, you’re moving back and leaving Derek.” 

“No, Scott, just shut up and listen. At the Midsummer Night’s Dream party, I saw Erica fucking some guy in the backyard.”

“What?” Scott exclaimed. 

Stiles shushed him. “I don’t want Derek to hear you. He doesn’t know.”

“Are you planning on telling him?”

“Like hell.” Stiles shook his head. “Come on, otherwise Derek will start to wonder if we snuck out the back door.” 

Scott picked up his keys. 

“Wait,” Stiles said, “what about that cat?” 

Waving a hand, Scott brushed the question off. “He’ll be fine. He can’t get into anything unless he can figure out how to turn a doorknob.” 

Stiles laughed. “Let’s hope not.” 

*

On the way back to LA—home, as it was to Stiles now—he sprawled across one of the couches with his head in Derek’s lap. 

“Did you have a good time today?” Derek asked. 

“The best.” Stiles curled his hand around Derek’s knee. “You’re the best.” He wanted to add _I love you, too_ , but couldn’t make his mouth form the words.


	12. Out with the Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changes at the Mansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens, friends. Buckle your seat belts because it's only going to get thicker. 
> 
> Special thank you to everyone who has reviewed thus far. You really make writing this fic worth it. 
> 
> I'm working on chapter 13 as we speak. And I'm going on vacation soon, so cross your fingers that I can keep this pace up!

The more Stiles mulled over Erica’s indiscretion, the less he could let it sit with him. Coming to terms with his own feelings for Derek, Stiles couldn’t remain in a polyamorous relationship with someone who would cheat on the man they were supposed to love. The only problem was that Stiles had no idea what to do with his information. If he went to Erica, she would deny it. And if he went to Derek, Stiles would look like a snitch trying to wedge his way between Derek and Erica. It was a mess that put him in a terrible position. 

He sought out the one person he knew he could trust—who had no stake in his relationship. 

“Why the long face, Sweet Cheeks?” Jennifer asked as Stiles plopped down in front of her. 

“Can I talk to you?” he asked. “Confidentially?” 

“Sure. What can I help you with?” 

Stiles licked his lips. “I saw Erica in a— _compromising_ position at the Midsummer Night’s Dream party.”

Jennifer’s expression remained stoic. “And?”

“And I saw her having sex with someone other than Derek, and I don’t know what to do!”

“Well, what can you do? That’s not a bell that can be unrung by anyone.” 

“But shouldn’t someone tell Derek?”

“Is that what you came here for? Honey, do you actually think Derek doesn’t already know? Keep in mind that there’s no provision that prevents his Partners from dating other people. He’s not monogamous, so how can he ask you to be?”

Her words settled in Stiles’ stomach like a stone. How stupid of him. Here he was: policing Erica and Scott’s behavior with Derek’s best interests at heart. Meanwhile, he and the other Partners were free (encouraged?) to date other people. 

Stiles stood up. “Thanks, Jen.” 

“Any time, Sweet Cheeks. Don’t let Erica get you down. That girl has got more baggage than an airline.” 

*

Stiles burst through the door of Derek’s bedroom. He didn’t bother knocking. 

Lydia was at the vanity painting her nails, and Derek was at his desk. They both looked up when Stiles came in. 

“You have some nerve!” Ignoring Lydia, Stiles stormed across the room towards Derek. “This whole time, I was torn up about Erica, and you already knew!” 

“Of course I knew. She told you?” 

“She didn’t tell me. I saw her.” 

“You saw her?” 

“Is there an echo in here? Yes—I saw her. She didn’t have to tell me anything.” 

“I thought she wasn’t leaving until Friday,” Lydia said from across the room. 

“What are you talking about?” Stiles said. 

“What are _you_ talking about?” Derek echoed. 

“I’m talking about Erica fucking some guy at the Midsummer Night’s Dream party!”

The identical looks of shock on Derek and Lydia’s faces told him that they _were_ talking about two different subjects. Fuck. 

“Well, what did you think I was talking about?”

“Hold on,” Derek said. “You saw _what_ at the party?” 

_Thanks, Jen. Can’t unring that bell, either._

Stiles swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I went outside when you guys were taking pictures with that kid because nobody seemed to want me there, anyway. That’s when I saw Erica and—some guy. You know the rest. That’s why I was upset. That’s why I came in here now. I thought you—I thought you knew and were okay with it.” 

Lydia fanned her fingers out as she blew on her nails. “Well, that explains why she’s leaving. Not that I’m surprised.” 

“So she’s leaving—like, moving out leaving?”

“Yeah.” Derek leaned back in his chair. “She came in and told me a little while ago. So I was surprised that you seemed upset about it. You two don’t get along that well.” 

“I mean, I’m not sorry to see her go.” 

“That makes two of us,” Lydia said. 

Derek shot her a look. “Next time, Stiles, don’t be afraid to come to me if you have a concern like this.” 

*

To Stiles’ great surprise, Erica sought him out to say goodbye. “Take care, kid. You could win this game in the end.” 

Before Stiles could ask what she was talking about, Erica smacked a kiss on his cheek. 

“Thanks for not ratting me out. Boyd put in his notice. He’s meeting me in New York tomorrow.” With a flip of her hair and a gust of perfume, Erica was gone. 

Stiles couldn’t decide if he should be worried or relieved. 

*

Derek invited several models over that weekend. Having seen proper Mansion parties, Stiles couldn’t think of it as more than a get-together. And if Derek was using it as a way to deal with his split from Erica, then so be it. The press had yet to catch wind of it, but by their next night out, it would be all over the papers. Derek couldn’t sneeze in this town without it becoming a headline. 

“You forgot your bathing suit,” Allison said, lowering her sunglasses so Stiles could see her eyes. 

“I don’t really feel like swimming,” he lied. Actually, he felt too self-conscious around all the others to take his shirt off. 

Even Derek was in the pool this time. 

Stiles struggled to keep his eyes off his boyfriend—and Isaac, who was splashing around and _flirting_ with him. Watching Derek with the other Partners was one thing, but this . . . this felt like cheating. 

Allison followed Stiles’ gaze. 

“Sucks being yesterdays news, doesn’t it?” 

Stiles jerked his head towards her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Okay.” Allison slid the sunglasses back up her nose. “Just remember that I’m here if you want to talk—or bitch—about anything.” 

A burst of laughter cut across the patio. Stiles looked back at the pool in time to see Derek pick Isaac up and throw him into the deep end. Laughing, Isaac resurfaced and swam back for more. 

*

When Stiles got a knock on his bedroom door later that night, he knew right away that it was Derek. 

“Come in,” he said without taking his eyes off the computer screen. 

The smell of Derek’s soap hit Stiles before he saw him. 

“I can tell you’re upset. Is running away and hiding your thing?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles minimized the window he was working on and spun around in his chair. “Is hunting me down like you’re guilty _your_ thing?”

“I get that you’re mad. What I don’t understand is why. Did you see someone else fucking in the bushes? Erica’s gone. I’m the one who got dumped, in case you didn’t notice. Thanks for the concern about my feelings.” 

“Thanks for worrying about mine! Erica leaves, so you just move on to the next person that bats their eyelashes your way?”

“I’m not monogamous, Stiles. I never lied to you. You know that when you agreed to move in here. If you don’t like that, you’re welcome to leave. I’m not coddling you this time.” Derek turned around and left the room, leaving Stiles stunned in his wake. 

 

For the next few days, Stiles tiptoed around the Mansion. He avoided seeing Derek at all costs and took meals in his room. To his surprise, no one came running after him this time—not Allison, and certainly not Derek. 

Only when he realized that nobody would come after him did Stiles emerge from his self-imposed exile. 

He walked into the dining room to find Jackson at the table. 

“You’re alive. Were you sick, or something? I haven’t seen you all week.” 

Stiles pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’ve been thinking.” 

“And you spent the week recovering?”

“I want to get a job. I can’t just lay around here all the time like you guys do. I have too much nervous energy for that.” 

“McDonald’s is always hiring.” 

“Funny,” Stiles said, though he realized fast food might very well be his only option. 

“Take up a hobby, or something. With all the money Derek gives us, it’s not like you need to work. Start . . . crocheting, or something.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Maybe I will.” 

 

One of the butlers was eager to valet his Jeep for him when he got to the garages. To Stiles’ great surprise, it had been washed and detailed. A sense of freedom surged through him as he pulled out of the driveway. Since moving in to the Mansion, he had not been behind the wheel of a car. 

Alone, he had the whole of Hollywood at his fingertips. This time, though, his bank account had more than a couple dollars in it. 

At first, Stiles just dove around. He hadn’t spent much time in this part of the city. It felt weird knowing he could afford to shop in the designer stores along the way. But as he drove down Hollywood Boulevard, one building in particular caught his eye. 

The inside of the building was much darker than the harsh glare from outside. 

The girl at the counter lowered her magazine. 

“Hi, I was wondering if you guys are doing any hiring.” 

“Let me get my manager.” 

She returned with an older woman who wore her hair in a bouffant the color of tomato soup. The manager looked at Stiles through the lenses of her coke bottle glasses. 

“Aren’t you dating Derek Hale? Style-something?” 

“It’s Stiles. And yes, but I was wondering if you’re looking to hire anyone part time.” 

The woman smiled, showing off the magenta lipstick on her teeth. “You will be perfect.” 

*

Stiles had the sense to knock on Derek’s door this time, though he was almost too excited to remember. 

“I have news!” he exclaimed as soon as Derek opened the door. 

“Come in. I have news, too, but you go first.” 

“I got a job!”

Derek’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Where?”

“Madame Tussaud’s in Hollywood. It’s not exactly what I want to do, but it’s a museum, so that’s a lot closer than, like, McDonald’s, or something.” 

“That’s great, but Stiles, if you needed more money—“

“No, no.” Stiles laid a hand on Derek’s chest. “It’s not about the money. I just need . . . something to occupy my time. I can only do so many laps in the pool. So what’s your news?”

“I asked Isaac to move into the Mansion.” 

Stiles’ stomach clenched. “As a . . . Partner?”

“Yes.” Derek searched Stiles’ face for his reaction. “To take Erica’s place. He’s already agreed. I wanted you to hear it from me.” 

“Whose place did I take?” The words slipped out before Stiles could stop them. 

Derek looked like he’d been slapped. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Stiles turned and fled the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! xx


	13. Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and his Partners celebrate Isaac's arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: thank you _so much_ to everyone who took the time to comment on the last chapter. Reading your comments as they came in made me smile so hard. I love hearing all the speculation, and I can't wait for you to find out if you're right. 
> 
> This chapter made it over 2k, and because it is so long, the original plan will now take place over this chapter and the next. 
> 
> With a rough (rough) ending sketched out, this fic will make it to at least 24-26 chapters (and probably more!). 
> 
> There's something good in this one for you guys, I promise. Thanks for staying with me!

From the balcony, Stiles and the other Partners watched as two of the butlers helped Isaac carry his bags in. Only Stiles seemed perturbed about the newcomer. 

“He’s really cute,” Allison said. 

All dimples and curls, that was Isaac. His personality won everyone over, too. Why couldn’t he have been a liar or a gold digger or something? No, he had to have an angelic disposition to match his looks. 

“Hey, guys,” Isaac said as he passed the others on the stairs. 

Stiles made a noise of acknowledgement. Watching Isaac make his way to Erica’s old room, Stiles’ heart felt like it was crumbling to pieces in his chest. 

 

His plans to avoid everyone until he could sort out the mess in his head were derailed by Derek’s decision to celebrate Isaac’s arrival with a night out. 

“We didn’t do this when I moved in,” Stiles grumbled as he followed Lydia down the stairs. 

At the bottom, she pulled him close. “This is about a lot more than you realize. People are going to start talking, and Derek’s trying to stay a step ahead of them.” 

Lydia stepped away from Stiles and changed her expression to a smile as Derek came down the stairs with Isaac. They looked like Hollywood’s new “it” couple: Isaac with his effortless model slouch and Derek eating it up with a spoon. 

The group assembled in the foyer for photos like they always did, but to Stiles’ great chagrin, Lydia and Isaac stood on either side of Derek. Stiles found himself on the outside next to Jackson. 

They piled into the limo and headed towards the club. 

Derek popped a bottle of champagne. He passed a glass to everyone but Stiles. 

Annoyed, Stiles dropped his outstretched hand. “I can’t have _one_ glass?”

“Not after last time.” 

Isaac gave Stiles a tight-lipped smile. “I saw the photos.” 

“You read the tabloids? How classy of you.” Stiles turned back to Derek. “Can I at least have a bottle of water?” 

“Of course.” 

“The photos were also published in _People_ ,” Jackson said with a smirk. 

Uncapping the bottle Derek handed him, Stiles took a long swing. “So Isaac, how did you and Derek get together after all this time?”

“He asked me to move in, and I said yes. Isn’t that how it happened with you two? And you didn’t know him at all.” 

Stiles’ hand clenched around the bottle he held. It made a creaking noise in protest. He wanted nothing more than to chuck it at Isaac’s head, but if he did, it might ricochet off Isaac’s big forehead and hit one of the girls. 

Allison raised her champagne glass. “To new beginnings.” 

The others followed suit and echoed her toast. Stiles abstained, but when he tried to take another sip of water, he managed to spill it down the front of his shirt. 

Lydia handed him a stack of napkins. “Get yourself cleaned up. We’re almost there.” 

 

Derek stepped out of the car to a storm of flashing lights and people calling his name. He leaned down to give Lydia and Allison a hand. 

Just like the photographs, Stiles came last. Still, the paparazzi surprised him by shouting his name. He did his best to smile as they blinded him with their flashing cameras. Someone grabbed his elbow. The realization that Derek was holding on to him cut off Stiles’ squawk of surprise.

“Come on!” he shouted. “They’ll keep you out here all night.” 

Stiles’ gave a genuine smile in return as Derek’s hand slid down his arm to lace their fingers together. 

Upstairs in the club, the VIP room kept them secluded from the lights and chest-thumping bass of the dance floor. 

Derek pulled Stiles down onto the couch next to him. On Derek’s other side sat Isaac. Stiles felt like one of two dogs fighting over a bone. 

“We need some shots!” Allison announced. 

“Great,” Stiles drawled in a flat affect. 

A tray of shots materialized, and everyone except Stiles took one. 

“You sure you don’t want a drink?” Isaac held his shot glass out to Stiles. 

The smell of alcohol made his stomach roll. 

“Don’t do it,” Lydia warned. “Derek forbade all of us to give him any after last time.” 

“Jesus Christ, I’m not a fucking Mogwai.” Before anyone could stop him, Stiles snatched one of the shots of the tray and knocked it back. The burn in his throat brought tears to his eyes. 

“If you throw up . . . “ 

Stiles shook his head as he unscrewed the cap on his water bottle. He polished it off before he could speak. “That may have been the worst decision of my week.” 

“If you throw up on me again, it’s going to be the worst decision of your life.” Derek’s eyebrows drew tight over his eyes. 

“I’m not going to throw up over one shot.” 

“He’s a lightweight, Derek,” Isaac said, patting their boyfriend’s thigh. “But I don’t think that will be enough to do it.” 

Rage boiled in Stiles’ veins. He wanted to order another round of shots and drink them all just to prove he could, but he knew that would be a disaster. 

“Come on, Derek.” Stiles jumped to his feet. “Let’s dance.” 

He pulled Derek close and made the little space they had work. Burying his face in Derek’s shoulder, Stiles closed his eyes and allowed the scent of Derek’s cologne to overwhelm them. He pretended they were alone. 

Until he felt a pair of arms embrace both of them from behind Derek. 

Stiles opened his eyes to find that Isaac had turned their private dance into a Derek-sandwich. Not at all what Stiles had intended. 

He turned around and dragged Derek’s arms over his shoulders. But as he stepped forward, Isaac followed them. 

Stiles’ frustration boiled over. 

He broke away from Derek. If Isaac wanted to dance with him, fine. Stiles wouldn’t get in his way. 

Jackson had already drank more than his share of shots, so Stiles caught his wrist and danced into the circle of his arms. 

The alcohol kept flowing. 

Dancing with Isaac occupied Derek so well that he paid no attention to Stiles’ uncharacteristic partner switch. Lydia shimmied into the space Stiles left behind, and the night wore on. 

The advantage remained in Stiles’ favor due to his sobriety. He watched the others all night, cataloguing their behavior and making mental notes. Last time, he wasted this opportunity by getting shit-faced. Not tonight. 

Lydia was the “I’m not drunk” drunk, Jackson became happy and flirty (and whoa, Stiles was _not_ prepared for that), and Allison turned into the “I’m either laughing or crying” drunk. Currently, she was laughing at some story of Jacksons, but the tears could come at any moment. She had already cried twice that night. 

Figuring out Isaac proved more difficult. He kept his cool as he downed shot after shot. He even managed to hold his composure better than Derek, who had more experience holding his liquor than any of them. 

Stiles first thought Isaac was using a chaser bottle, but he never had one in his hand. Unless he was throwing the shots on the floor, he had an iron stomach. Stiles found it incredibly suspicious and resolved to get to the bottom of it. But first, he had more pressing matters. 

He took ahold of Derek’s arm on the way out of the club. “I know it’s Allison’s night, but I don’t think she’ll be capable of much more than passing out tonight.” 

In the light of the flashbulbs, Allison kept her balance, though she looked like staying upright was her biggest challenge at the moment. 

“Okay,” Derek said. Then he turned and kissed Stiles on the mouth in full view of the cameras. 

The paparazzi went nuts. 

They zeroed in on Derek and Stiles as the others escaped into the privacy of the limo. Finally, Stiles received some of the limelight that he deserved. 

Derek pulled away from the kiss, a wide smile on his face. Amidst the chaos of celebrity, he looked truly happy, and Stiles had put that smile on his face. 

Sliding into the limo after the others, Stiles shot Isaac a smug look. Isaac smiled back tightly in return, and Stiles counted that as a win. 

With a possessive hand on Derek’s inner thigh, Stiles leaned his head back and closed his eyes. They rode back to the Mansion in comfortable silence.

 

Stiles’ carefully cultivated bravado disappeared as he shut the door to his bedroom. 

Derek spread himself across the bed. His collar was unbuttoned enough to show a peek of the dark hair beneath. “So,” he drawled. He flicked a hand down the buttons on his shirt until it fell open on either side of his chest. 

At the invitation, Stiles chuckled nervously. 

“Are you going to stand there all night? You got what you wanted. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Pushing off from the door, Stiles used the momentum to propel himself forward. Every time he had the opportunity to be alone with Derek—something he fought for—he found himself frozen with fear. 

“What’s wrong?” Derek’s expression creased in concern. “You’ve been acting weird all night.” 

“Nothing.” Stiles pulled his t-shirt up over his head. He climbed onto the bed and straddled Derek’s hips. 

“It’s Isaac, isn’t it?”

Stiles stroked his fingertips down the soft line of Derek’s beard. “No. It’s you.” 

Turning his head, Derek kissed Stiles’ fingertips. The bed creaked in protest as Stiles leaned down to kiss his man. Not even the taste of beer could put him off. Their tongues slipped against one another, and Stiles felt his dick harden. It hadn’t seen any action since before Stiles moved into the Mansion. 

“I want to blow you,” Derek said. He reached down to cup Stiles’ bulge through his jeans. 

“Yeah—uh—yeah,” Stiles stuttered. “I want that so much.” 

Derek reversed their positions and discarded his shirt along the way. With Stiles on his back, he was completely at Derek’s mercy. 

“Is this okay?” Derek asked as his hands reached for Stiles’ belt. 

All Stiles could do was bite his lip and nod. He didn’t trust his voice. 

With careful, reverent movements, Derek unbuckled Stiles’ belt and lowered his zipper. Stiles trembled with anticipation as he lifted his hips to help Derek get his jeans off. They hit the floor with a dull thump. 

Grinning, Derek returned his attention to Stiles, making him feel more than just bare— _exposed_.

“Hey.”

Derek’s one word drew Stiles attention back to him. 

“Are you with me?” 

Stiles nodded. His neck and chest flushed red. 

“Are you sure?” Any trace of intoxication drained from Derek’s face, his movements. His attention narrowed to Stiles. Now that he had Derek’s undivided attention, the hyper-focus stole the words from Stiles’ throat under Derek’s scrutiny. 

“I’m good.” Stiles buried a hand in Derek’s hair to reassure him. 

Derek pressed a kiss to the delicate wing of Stiles’ hip. His thumb traced over the spot as he tongued the tip of Stiles’ cock. 

Derek’s eyes flicked upward. “Bad?” 

“Good.” Stiles released his hold on Derek’s locks and smoothed them back. “So good.” 

“Good.” 

As Derek lowered his head back down, Stiles focused on clenching the sheets in his free hand. 

It was an embarrassingly short time before he lost himself in the heat of Derek’s mouth. 

“How was that?” Derek asked as he kissed his way back up Stiles’ body. 

It took a minute for Stiles to collect his thoughts. “Let me just say that I cannot believe I waited so long for that.” 

Chuckling, Derek rubbed his beard against Stiles’ cheek. “I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but neither can I.” 

Stiles leveraged himself onto one elbow. “Do you want me to—“

“Whiskey dick.” Derek smiled in apology. He wrapped an arm around Stiles and pulled him close. “Happens every time I go out.” 

Stiles laid awake long after he heard Derek’s breathing even out. 

_Derek had no intention of sleeping with Allison tonight, so this was all for_ Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No promises, but I'm hoping to have the next chapter out by Thursday at the latest! Thanks again for reading!! xx


	14. All in a Day's Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles goes to work for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this being so late. I finally got to see my family, and this is the first day I've had alone in about a week. 
> 
> This chapter is all about Stiles because, well, this is his story. XD
> 
> And a huge thank you to everyone who has read and commented. This fic isn't even worth it without readers. *hugs you all*

Chapter 14

Stiles woke to a sight that made his heart clench. Buried in the pillow next to him, Derek looked so peaceful in sleep. The fine lines that creased his face smoothed out. All the troubles of his waking hours fled in the face of dreams. Everything would be perfect if this sight was his every day--and his alone. As it was, nobody could take _this_ moment from him. 

Shuffling closer, Stiles rubbed his nose against the underside of Derek's chin. Derek's breathing got louder, but he showed no signs of waking. Stiles moved closer still and wrapped one hand around Derek's waist. When even that garnered him no response, Stiles pulled out the big guns. He wedged his leg between Derek's thighs and used it to rub against Derek's morning wood. 

"Mmm, good morning." Derek opened his eyes and regarded Stiles with a smile that he smeared into Stiles' cheek. He took a deep breath and exhaled in a groan. "Is that a promise or a threat?"

"It's a guarantee." Stiles caught Derek's mouth in a kiss. He didn't care that Derek tasted like stale beer or that he would be in someone else's bed tonight. Only making the most of their time together mattered now. 

"I want you to fuck me," Stiles whispered against Derek's lips.

Derek searched Stiles' eyes. "Are you sure?"

"I put lube in the nightstand. Yes, I'm sure." 

"Do you have condoms? That's one of the less-advertised rules I have for my Partners: we use condoms every time. No excuses. It's the only way we can do this safely." 

Stiles had to keep himself from snorting at the word "safe." Nothing about this situation was are. He was already falling with no parachute. 

"If you don't, I can have some sent up." 

Stiles caught Derek's hand as he reached for the phone. Calling a butler about condoms was just weird. Besides, "I put condoms in the drawer, too. I'm not a complete fool." 

Rolling on top of Derek so he could reach, Stiles pulled open the drawer. His hand emerged clutching a small bottle of lube and a condom, both of which he dropped on the bed next to them. 

"I never said you're a fool." 

"Well," Stiles cocked an eyebrow, "I am dating you." 

Derek's laugh came out like he was choking. "Not exactly pillow talk there, Stiles." 

"Not supposed to be." Stiles crawled backwards down the bed and took Derek's half-hard cock in his mouth. 

Derek's breath escaped from between his teeth in a hiss. 

Because the blowjob wasn't his intention, Stiles bobbed his head just enough to get Derek hard. He tore open the condom with his teeth and rolled it down Derek's shaft. 

"You need some prep?" Derek asked, pupils blown wide with arousal. 

"We're getting to that." Crawling over Derek's body, Stiles turned so that he could still put his mouth on Derek's cock while giving Derek access to his ass. Stiles looked between his legs. "I'm gonna give you dealer's choice on this one." 

As Stiles lowered his mouth on Derek's latex-covered cock (he chose unlubricated for this reason), he felt Derek frame his hips in those big, calloused hands. But instead of Derek's fingers, Stiles felt the scratch of a beard and then the smooth, wet slide of Derek's tongue against his hole. Stiles dropped his forehead against Derek's thigh with a heavy exhale. 

"Not what I was expecting." 

A lick. "Are you complaining?"

"Not in the slightest." 

Stiles found it progressively harder to concentrate on sucking dick as Derek tongued his hole. As Derek slid a finger alongside his tongue, Stiles faced game over. Defeats, he dropped his head to Derek's thigh. 

"I need you inside me. Like five minutes ago." 

"Is that right?" Derek's tone sounded no different than if he were ordering a pizza. He pushed another finger in next to the first." 

"Okay--yeah--now." Stiles' dick throbbed as he twisted himself around without kneeing Derek in the head. 

Snatching the lube back, Stiles squirted too much on Derek's cock and gave it a couple strokes to lube it sufficiently. 

"Easy," Derek said. 

Stiles chose to ignore him. With Derek's dick in his hand, Stiles began lowering himself. He gritted his teeth against the slight burn. By Stiles' own command, Derek had forgone thorough prep. 

"Are you good?" Derek asked. His thumbs rubbed the hollows of Stiles' hips. It provided a nice distraction. 

Stiles let his breath out in one slow stream. "Just a minute." He lifted himself an inch and slid back down. "Or three." 

"Take your time. I'm not in a hurry." 

"Don't have to rush off to work today?" 

"I do have to work, but no rushing. I'm the boss, so I get to come in whenever I want." He pulled Stiles down for a kiss and ran his hands over Stiles' bare back.

"That's good." Stiles drew the last word out as Derek started thrusting shallowly. "That's--that's it, yeah." 

"Me going to work when I want?" Derek teased without breaking his rhythm. 

"I want you to shut up." Stiles kissed him one more time before sitting up. 

With his body relaxed enough to allow Derek smooth entry, Stiles began building up his own rhythm. His cock, which had softened considerably between foreplay and penetration, firmed back up. Derek wrapped a hand around it. 

"Fuck, yes," Stiles said. Bracing both hands against Derek's chest, he fucked up into his boyfriend's hand and back down onto his cock. "I don't think I've ever slept with anyone who hacked me off before." 

Derek's hand stopped. "You're fucking kidding me, right?" 

"No--why would--" Before Stiles could finish his sentence, Derek pulled some sort of Houdini move by putting Stiles on his knees and entered him from behind. It pushed all the thoughts from Stiles' head. He let out a soft moan as Derek's hand resumed its earlier strokes. 

Stiles dropped his upper body to the bed. 

"Oh, my God, you are amazing." 

Derek sucked a mark onto Stiles' shoulder. "You haven't seen anything, yet." 

But Stiles couldn't wait for any more tricks. Face buried in the pillow, he came on Derek's cock. The orgasm brought tears to his eyes, it was so good. 

*

Pulling open the door to Madame Tussaud's, Stiles stepped into the blessed cool of the air conditioned building. He was greeted by the same surly-faced girl as before. 

"Hi." He gave her a half-smile. "I'm Stiles. I'm supposed to start work today." 

"Yep." The girl smacked her gum and turned a page in her magazine. "Blanche is in the office. Head on back." 

With a sharp nod, Stiles headed for the office around the corner. 

Blanche looked up and smiled when she saw him. "I wasn't sure you would show. But I must say that I'm glad you did. I can't seem to get nearly as many names in here as I would like."

"Names?" 

"Names--celebrities--famous people. Granted, you're only famous by association. Unless you're an actor or something? Are you? Singer?"

Stiles shook his head. "Just a historian." 

"You've got a good memory, and you're dating a celebrity. That's all I need to know." 

"What exactly will I be doing?"

"Selling my customers what they want." 

Stiles put his hands up in a gesture of defence. "Whoa--I didn't agree to have sex with anyone." 

Blanche's laugher sounded wet and deteriorated into a coughing fit. She probably smoked two packs a day for 40 years. "No--they came here to meet celebrities. You'll just be taking pictures and signing autographs." 

"Oh." Stiles deflated. He thought this job would give him something to do that did not involve Derek. 

"Don't sound so exited," Blanche barked. "I'm paying you 50 dollars an hour." 

Stiles' perspective switched in an instant. "That sounds great." 

 

Blanche parked him on a stool next to Derek and his wax Partners. 

Looking at Erica's smug face all day made Stiles want to punch something, so he turned himself to face the Paris Hilton statue in the opposite display. At least she owned her vapid, useless persona. 

The first visitors blew past Stiles like he wasn't there. They didn't spare Derek or Paris a glance. 

"Must not be a fan of naked people," Stiles muttered to himself when they were out of sight. 

The next visitors--three blondes who could have been sisters--spent a fair bit of time ogling and cooing over Derek. They nearly jumped out of their skin when they realised Stiles was real. After that, he made it a game to frighten people. 

He found it hardest to keep his eyes fixed on one spot, but after a couple tries, he managed to blend in with the statues. He would change positions, too. First, he'd be posing with the other Partners, then he'd be draped around Derek like the new addition to the exhibit that he was. He couldn't fathom how any wax museum expected to keep up with the eating habits of celebrities, however. 

The best scare he got for the day happened with a mother and daughter. The daughter squeezed herself between Stiles and Derek while the mother prepared to take a photo. 

"Say cheese!"

Stiles did, and pulled the daughter close. She and her mother screamed in surprised, and the mother dropped her phone. 

"You're real!" 

Stiles grinned. "Flesh and blood."

The girl shrieked again and pulled him into a hug. 

 

Blanche paid him in cash. He went back to the mansion with $200 in his pocket. 

The smile slid off his face when he found a copy of _InTouch Weekly_ on his bed. 

The cover shot captured his kiss with Derek outside the club. Stiles didn't mind that--he had grown used to being photographed since hooking up with Derek. 

The part that he wanted to burn off the magazine was Isaac's smirk staring up at him next to the caption "Is Stiles yesterday's news? New Hale Partner!"

Growling, Stiles flung the magazine into the trash. Only his pride kept him from demanding to know who brought that filth into his room. 

Picking up his phone, Stiles dialled 0. 

"Hale Mansion, this is Ennis."

"Ennis, it's Stiles. Could you send up a strawberry milkshake and a plate of curly fries?"

"Right away, Sir."

Some people drank themselves into a stupor. Stiles ate his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to have the next update out by Friday. 
> 
> Also: my second short story was published! *dances*
> 
> Thanks for reading!! xx


	15. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and the Partners celebrate Halloween at the Hale Mansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone!
> 
> I love hearing all the theories on this fic. And you'll be pleased to hear that it just keeps growing in my head. I know the direction I'm going and how it ends, but all these characters keep popping up with side stories to further complicate the plot. I hope you're loving this story as much as I am!
> 
> Special thanks to 1lostone and colonelborkmundus for help with the Batman stuff!

"Have you decided what to be, yet?" Allison asked. 

"I told you: Batman. Scotty is going as Robin." 

Allison rolled her eyes and turned the car into the parking lot of Trashy Lingerie. The store made good on its name. The inside was wall to wall with bustiers, corsets, thongs, babydolls, and teddies. 

Had he not seen so many half-naked women at Derek's parties, Stiles would have felt more out of place in a room full of satin and lace. He had only agreed to accompany her on this trip because he needed to get out of the mansion. 

"Have you decided what you're going as?"

"A doll." 

"Like . . . a child's doll?"

"No, more like an old ventriloquist's doll. But sexier." 

"Of course." Stiles followed her through the store. "Are you looking for a babydoll dress, then? Or just a bra and panties? Are those things even called dresses?" Absently, he fingered the hem of a green one. Some men enjoyed wearing women's lingerie. Stiles was not one of those men. 

"Yes and no." Allison paused to look at the garment. "Technically, it's more like a nightie than a dress." 

"Of course it is. Otherwise, you couldn't wear it to the party." 

"Batman?" Allison held up a black pair of panties with a satin Bat Symbol emblazoned on the back. 

Stiles bared his teeth. "Like hell."

"You don't think Derek would like it? They're so cute." 

"I'm gonna operate on the assumption that if Derek wanted to date women, Jackson and I would be out of the picture."

"What about Isaac?"

"I named all of Derek's boyfriends." Stiles grabbed the next hanger he saw, which happened to be a yellow babydoll. "Ooh, this is nice." 

Allison's expression turned from critical to interested. "This is gorgeous!" Her fingers traced the intricate lace design over the bustier that would give her breasts a nice lift. "Good eye, Stiles! I think this is the one. It's perfect." 

"Glad I could help." Stiles pressed his lips together and shrugged. 

Getting his mind off Isaac . . . Derek . . . Derek and Isaac hadn't been a success, so at least Allison got something out of it. 

*

Stiles dragged his feet on finding his own Halloween costume until a few days before the party when Scott arrived. 

Allison dropped by the patio where they were ruminating and brought the solution. 

"Are you guys going back of Trashy?" she asked with a wink. 

Scott perked up. "We don't have any idea where to go. Do you have any suggestions?" 

"I know of a few places." 

Stiles watched the exchange like a tennis match along the road to Hell. Maybe it was the sun beating down on the back of his neck, but it felt a lot more dangerous than skin cancer. Unfortunately, he couldn't pull the brakes on this train without putting himself in a bad position. 

"Awesome. You can help Stiles and me find costumes that don't look like we threw them together in five minutes. That's usually how we did our Halloween costumes as kids. I think the best one was when I wrapped Stiles in cling wrap and called him leftovers." 

Allison laughed like it was the funniest thing she'd heard in ages. 

Stiles remained stone faced. Endorsing any connection between Allison and Scott would be no better than encouraging Erica to fuck random men behind Derek's back. Stiles would remain true to Derek, no matter how badly it hurt. 

*

The night of the party, Stiles watched from the bed as Scott adjusted the black mask over his eyes. Stiles had been dressed for hours; the anxiety to get this over with had been killing him all day. 

"Can I tell you something?" 

Stiles clenched his teeth. "Sure."

"Promise you won't freak out?"

"No." 

Scott sat down on the bed. "We've been best friends since kindergarten. Why do I feel like things have changed since you moved in here? It doesn't seem like you're happy, Stiles. Are you? Does Derek make you happy? Do you even want to be here?"

"Yes," Stiles replied emphatically. "And no. It's complicated. Does Derek make me happy? Yes, absolutely. But am I happy _here_? Not a lot. There's just so many moving parts." 

"Do you love him?"

Silence stretched between them while Stiles debated what to say. "I really care for Derek." 

"So you guys haven't dropped the L-word yet." 

"He has." 

Scott's mouth pursed in an "O." "What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. I didn't say anything. I just sort of let it go." 

"Aren't you worried about what he might be thinking?"

"Like what? I'm still here. Derek and I are sleeping together. I highly doubt he's going to kick me to the curb any time soon." He bit his tongue before adding something snarky about Derek trading him in for Isaac. "So what did you want to tell me?"

"Uh--I--yeah." Scott put his hands together and tucked them between his thighs. "Don't get upset, but I think Allison is going to leave Derek." 

A cold chill washed over Stiles like he'd been doused with a bucket of water. "Did she tell you that?"

"Not in so many words, but I can tell." 

"Quit making my life so difficult." Stiles stood up. "Are you ready to get this thing over with?"

"Don't sound so excited." 

 

Scott waiting to the side while Stiles and the others took pictures. At least Isaac was positioned on the opposite side as Stiles. It would have been too hard to fake a smile with his arm around Isaac's waist. 

Stiles broke away from the group the second the photographer lowered his camera. 

"I hate this mask," he muttered. The plastic edge dug into his cheeks, and he itched to remove it. 

Scott came to an abrupt stop, and Stiles nearly ran him over. 

"Stiles." Scott pitched his voice lower. "Please, for my sake, just this once pretend that you're not completely miserable. Ten years ago, we would have done anything to sneak into a party like this. So, if you must, pretend that you're not stuck in this truly bizarre love quad--quint--six--whatever--my point is please be my Stiles for _one_ night. You're never this moody."

Scott snagged two Jell-O shots off a passing waiter's tray. He held one out to Stiles. "One night and you can go back to moping." 

"I really shouldn't," Stiles hedged. 

"I'll hold your hair back if you throw up. That's what best friends are for." Grabbing Stiles' hand, Scott forced him to take the shot. He held his own up in a toast. 

The Jell-O went down smoothly, though Stiles could fast the vodka. With a shake of his head, he lowered the plastic cup. "Hooo-haven't done that in a while." 

Scott answered him with a grin. 

"Hey, Batman and Robin! Mind if I get a pic?" Malia asked. 

"Sure." The warmth from the vodka had begun spreading into Stiles' chest, and he felt himself loosening up. "What's your costume?" 

She kicked out a boot. "I'm a cowgirl." She had foregone lingerie in favor of a plaid shirt tied under her breasts. 

Squeezing between Stiles and Scott, Malia held out her cellphone to fit them all in the frame and snapped the picture. She slid the phone back in her tiny pocket. "If we planned ahead, you could have dressed as Batgirl." 

Malia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, coz _that's_ a thing."

Fighting a smile, Stiles shared a look with Scott. "Actually, Batgirl _is_ a thing. She's Barbara Gordon, Commissioner Gordon's daughter." 

Malia's expression remained blank. 

"You don't know who Gordon is, do you?"

"No." 

"He's the cop who supports Batman. Does that help?"

"I guess. I'm more familiar with, like, the Joker and Penguin and Poison Ivy. Oh, and Two-Face and Catwoman. I've seen a few of the Batman movies." 

"But you don't remember Gordon?"

"I recognised Batman and Robin. That's about the best you're going to get from me. You're a big fan, I take it?"

"I can tell you that Batman's first appearance was in Detective Comics #31, September 1939. I'm like a walking encyclopaedia. Yeah, I'm a big fan." Knowing he might regret his decision, Stiles turned around and lifted his shirt. "Can you see it?"

"A little lower." Scott tugged his pants down so Malia could see the whole tattoo. 

"It's the Batman symbol! Oh my goodness, you've got a Batman tramp stamp!" 

Stiles put his clothes back to rights and turned around. "It's one of those 'seemed like a good idea at the time' sort of things, but I don't really regret it. Scotty got one the same day. Show her yours." 

Scott rolled down one of the black socks he was wearing to reveal a wolf on his calf. "I love wolves," he said. Spitting on his hand, Scott rubbed it over the tattoo. The wolf's eyes turned a brighter yellow. "I've got a couple of bands on my arm, too." He clasped the sleeve of his costume, under which the tattoo was hidden. "Do you have any?" 

"Just one." Malia turned around. The back of her neck was bared by the two braids over her shoulders. Her tattoo was a heart with an M in the middle. "It's for my mom. She died when I was little." 

"My mom died when I was 12. I know how you feel." 

Scott patted Stiles's shoulder. "I'm gonna go find another drink. Do you guys need anything?" 

Stiles and Malia shook their heads, and Scott walked away. 

"Do you wanna go sit down?" Stiles asked. 

"Sure." 

They found an empty couch in the den. Only a few people occupied the space, so they could carry an easier conversation. 

Malia snagged two bottles of beer and handed Stiles one. 

"Thanks." He sank down onto the couch. "So do you live in Los Angeles? I sort of thought your whole family worked at _Halefire_. Even Lydia does." 

"I could if I wanted to, I guess. I do live in LA, but I'm an artist." 

"Like a visual artist? Painting and stuff?" 

"Mostly acrylics, yes. I do a fair bit with watercolours and graphite, too." 

"Do you have showings of your work?"

"Oh, yeah. I actually had an installation at the Natural History Museum a couple years ago." 

Stiles' jaw dropped. "That place is my dream job." 

"I know some people there. I could probably put you in touch with someone, if not get you an interview." 

"That would be amazing." Stiles found himself throwing his arms around her in a hug. It just felt natural to kiss her, so he did. 

His brain caught up with his body, and Stiles jerked back. "Oh my god, I shouldn't have done that." 

Placing a hand on his cheek, Malia leaned in again. "It's okay." 

But before she could kiss him again, Stiles twisted away and stood up. "That was a mistake. I'm sorry--I didn't mean to give you the wrong idea, but I'm with Derek. He may date other people, but I don't." 

He drained his beer and fled the room. 

Looking for Scott, Stiles spotted Derek's jaunty Willy Wonka hat. He pushed his way through the crowd until he could mold himself against his boyfriend's side. 

"There you are." Derek switched his drink to his other hand and wrapped an arm around Stiles. "Where have you been all night?"

"Mingling." 

From the corner of his eye, Stiles saw Isaac approaching them. He looked ridiculous in those oversized wings. 

"Come here," Stiles said, directing Derek's attention in the opposite direction. 

Isaac was Cupid, so let him shoot his arrow and go away. 

"There's something I want to show you."

Take that, you overgrown baby in a diaper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll notice that I am now moderating comments. This seems like the best solution to keep negativity out, rather than disabling anon comments. (I totally respect all of my dear anon commenters, so please don't let the moderation frighten you away!) I welcome constructive criticism, but not hatred. 
> 
> I'm on Twitter @moitmiller if you want to chat! 
> 
> Next update will hopefully be out by Sunday!
> 
> xx


	16. Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek spend some more time alone together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days! Don't count on a chapter tomorrow because it's my last day of vacation and I fly home. :)
> 
> You'll notice that this fic now says there are 27 total chapters. For now, that's an estimate; the final count will only go up. It will not go down. 
> 
> Thanks again for all the comments! I'm just surprised nobody mentioned Stiles' tattoo. *g*

The Mansion was dark and silent when Stiles opened his eyes. He didn't remember passing out, and looking around, he didn't know which room he was in. The couch under his cheek felt soft and lush, so he could have been anywhere. 

Pushing himself into a sitting position, Stiles waited for his eyes to adjust. On the floor in front of the couch slept two people tangled together. Had he stood up, Stiles would have tripped over them. Squinting into the darkness, he managed to make out a yellow R. Who the hell would be spooning Scott? 

Moving slowly so as not to wake them, Stiles leaned closer. The arm around Scott's waist was bare. Stiles' gaze roamed upward. Wings. 

"Scott!" Stiles nudged his best friend in the ribs.

Both Scott and Isaac stirred.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Stiles hissed. 

"Dude, what's your problem?" Isaac sat up and rubbed his eyes. 

Scott's head whipped around and he pushed away from Isaac like he'd been burned. "Who the hell are you?"

"I could ask you the same thing, but I was too comfortable a minute ago to care." 

"Well, I'm straight," Scott said as he climbed to his feet. "I don't know how drunk I was, but--no." 

"I think we're downstairs," Stiles said, more to himself than Scott. "Let's go up to bed." Stiles cast Isaac a dirty look as they left him behind. 

*

The partygoers who remained in the morning assembled for a big breakfast in the formal dining room. Stiles found himself seated next to Scott and across from Isaac. Because Scott was ignoring him, too, Stiles found it easier to talk to anyone else at the table. 

To Stiles' right sat Malia's father, Peter, a strange man with a hypnotic voice. 

"Talia was my sister," he said. "We were all devastated after the accident." 

Malia leaned over her father so she could see Stiles. "Dad's always maudlin after Halloween because that was Aunt Talia's birthday." 

Stiles choked on his orange juice. "I'm so sorry," he sputtered. "I had no idea. Derek didn't say anything." 

Across the table from Peter, Cora shook her head. "Don't feel bad. Mom never liked to celebrate her birthday, even when she was alive. She and Dad would put all their energy into the party to take the focus off her. So, this is exactly how she would have wanted it." 

"But I don't have to like it," Peter said. The fierce look in his eyes sent a shiver of fear down Stiles' spine. Something seemed off about that man. 

"Peter, you don't like anything," Cora said with a sharp look. 

"He likes blonde half his age," Laura said, looking past her sister. "Better be careful, Isaac." 

Stiles dropped his knife with a clatter. "Seriously--what is with this family? Do you all just pass people back and forth between you? I feel like I should be on this table instead of the ham." 

"Don't get ahead of yourself," said Isaac. "Laura said blondes, not miserable cry babies." 

At the head of the table Derek directed his attention to Stiles and Isaac. "Do you two have to fight constantly? Come on, it's not even 10 o'clock yet." 

"He started it," Stiles and Isaac said simultaneously. 

The table erupted into laugher. 

*

After breakfast, Stiles retreated to his room. Scott had to pack his bag so he could return to Beacon Hills. 

"So what happened last night?" Stiles asked. "The last thing I remember is dancing with you and Derek, and then I woke up on that couch. A better question might be how you wound up on the floor with Isaac. I didn't see that one coming." 

Scott threw a pair of socks in his bag. He parked his hands on his hips. "I told you I have no idea how that happened. You know I'm not into dudes. No offense."

"None taken." 

"I remember drinking with you, and at some point in time, I was doing shots with Isaac. Allison was there, too--" 

"You didn't sleep with her, did you?"

Scott's face took on a pinched look. "No. We were just dancing--you and Derek and Isaac were dancing with us, too. At some point, everyone disappeared, and it was down to me and Isaac. I think we were doing shots together at some point. It's all blurry from there." 

"I thought you were going to be my wingman, and you were too busy canoodling."

"Trust me, I would have much rather been laying with--"

A knock sounded on the door and Allison walked in. She looked like she'd seen a ghost. 

"What's wrong?" Scott asked. 

"Isaac's leaving," she said like she couldn't believe her own words. 

Stiles jumped off the bed. " _What_?" No way this was true.

"Yeah, I was in Derek's room with him and Lydia a minute ago. Isaac walked in and said he was leaving. Derek asked me and Lydia to give them some privacy--I think she went to tell Jackson." 

"There's no fucking way." 

Stiles flung open the door and headed for the stairs. He stopped short on the balcony when eh saw a butler helping Isaac with his bags. 

Looking up, Isaac caught Stiles' eye. His expression spoke of defeat, and Stiles felt his stomach drop. He never meant to drive Isaac away. Folding his arms on the railing, Stiles watched another piece of Derek's heart walk out the door. 

Allison, Scott, Lydia, and Jackson joined him eventually. The door shut, and the sound echoed in the empty foyer. And just like that, they became four again. 

*

Derek stayed in his room for days. According to Lydia, he left the Mansion to spend long hours at the studio, but Stiles never saw him leave. No one but Lydia went into Derek's bedroom, at least not that Stiles saw. 

After two of his date days passed with no sign of communication from Derek, Stiles took it upon himself to seek his boyfriend out. To his great surprise, the bedroom door was ajar. 

"Derek?" Stiles called tentatively. He knocked with one knuckle before pushing the door open. 

The room looked the same as it always did, so Stiles was surprised to see Derek in an armchair facing the window. 

"Derek?" Stiles said again when his boyfriend showed no sign of acknowledging his presence. 

Stepping lightly, Stiles crossed the room. He laid a hand on Derek's shoulder and squeezed. Derek covered Stiles' hand with his own. 

Sighing, Derek looked up. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. 

Stiles' heart shattered. 

"What's wrong with me?" Derek asked. His voice sounded so broken and raw that all Stiles could do was sink to his knees and bury his head in Derek's lap. 

"There's nothing wrong with you." 

"He said he can't be here anymore. He said this wasn't what he expected. I don't know what happened. Every other time I've seen him, we've had this . . . connection, you know? I bet you didn't know that I discovered Isaac. He was stocking shelves at a grocery store, and all I could see was those long legs on the cover of _Halefire_. Three months later, I had him shooting at the studio for the first time." Derek sighed again. "I just felt like we had something." 

"I'm sorry," Stiles said, and he felt it. His intention was never to run Isaac out of the Mansion, and it certainly wasn't to put Derek in a state like this. 

Derek carded a hand through Stiles' hair. "It's not your fault, but thank you for coming to see me. I imagine I'll be okay in a few more days. Getting dumped sucks."

A thousand questions lingered on Stiles' tongue, but now was not the time. "Can I . . . " His hand strayed towards Derek's inner thigh. He was prepared to be slapped away. 

Derek lifted his own hand, only to cover Stiles' with it. "Not right now." 

Stiles climbed to his feet, groaning as his knees popped. "Let's go do something, then. Get your mind off of all this. Somewhere you don't have to think." 

"Like what?"

"I've got an idea." 

*

"A bowling alley?"

Someone's ball hit the pins, and Stiles grinned. "Cheap beer, a stranger's shoes, and absolutely no paparazzi. What's not to love?"

Derek looked mildly constipated as Stiles paid for their game and handed him a pair of shoes. 

"Try those on." 

Derek raised an eyebrow. 

"Come on. I know for a fact that you don't have a pair of custom-made genuine leather ones at home." 

Obedient, Derek sat down. He pulled off one of his boots and tried the bowling shoe. "Yeah, they fit." 

"Good. Lace the other one up." 

They picked out their balls and found a lane. 

"Can you punch our names in there while I get us some libations?"

At Derek's no, Stiles kissed his cheek. "I'll be right back." 

He returned to find that it was Bruce's turn to bowl. Next up was Clark. With a grin, Stiles set down the tray that he carried. "Clark Kent, huh? Is that who you are when you're not busy being Derek Hale, _Halefire_ CEO and world-famous playboy? You'd look pretty hot in a pair of those glasses." 

"I figured you'd appreciate that." Derek picked up his beer and took a drink. He used it to gesture at Stiles. "What did you get?"

"Coke and cheeseballs. You want one?"

Derek opened his mouth, so Stiles selected a big one from the tray. He popped it in Derek's mouth, and gasped in surprise when Derek's lips closed around his fingers. 

"Tease," Stiles said as he pulled his hand away. 

"Those are good." Derek smirked. "Are you ready to bowl?" 

"So long as you're ready to get your ass kicked." 

 

Stiles ended up bowling a 230, which was good for him, and Derek surprised him by bowling a 190. 

"Not bad," Stiles said. "Must be those fancy rented shoes." 

"Either that or the smell of stale popcorn." 

Stiles drove, but Derek held the car door open for him anyway. When Derek got in the passenger side, he leaned over to give Stiles a kiss. "Thank you for thinking of me as just Derek. Even I forget who I am sometimes." 

Stiles' heart swelled. "I'll always be here to remind you. I love you, Derek." 

Derek's smile was blinding as he closed his hand over the one Stiles had resting on the gearshift. "I love you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the Isaac shippers: I'm sorry. I really don't have anything against Isaac. I swear. He is just such a perfect adversary for Stiles.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!
> 
> xx


	17. Nuit à Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and the Partners go to Paris for Derek's birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm about a week later getting this out than I wanted to be, but alas. If we're following the tentative schedule, there are only 10 more chapters to go! What! 
> 
> I hope to have the next chapter out by Wednesday at the latest. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading, commenting, kudoing, and enjoying. xx

For Derek’s birthday, he fueled the jet, loaded his Partners, and headed for Paris. Stiles was the only one uncomfortable with overseas travel. Not even Jennifer, who Derek had brought to help him keep tabs on the business, seemed bothered in the slightest. 

Both hands clenched into claws over the arms, Stiles remained glued to his chair. 

“Maybe you should have a drink,” Lydia suggested. “It will help settle your nerves.” 

“I’m not a good flier,” Stiles said through clenched teeth. 

Smiling fondly, Derek switched seats so he could sit next to Stiles. “Are you gonna make it? In case you pass out, Kali knows CPR.” 

The lone flight attendant gave a taunting wave. 

Stiles’ lip curled. “I just don’t like heights. I never have. Airplanes are like my biggest nightmare.” 

“You were fine when we went to Beacon Hills.” 

“That flight was like an hour and a half. This is four times that.” 

“Come here.” Derek stood up and tugged on Stiles’ arm. He practically had to pry Stiles out of his chair. 

They walked past the galley kitchen and the bathroom. Stiles was surprised to see that the back of the jet had been hiding a bedroom with an actual bed and sheets. 

“Lay down,” Derek said as he heeled off his shoes. 

“I’m not having sex with you on an airplane!” Stiles hissed. 

Derek rolled his eyes. “Stiles, just lay down.” To illustrate his command, Derek laid down fully clothed on top of the bed. 

Eyeing him warily, Stiles did the same. 

Derek pulled him close. “See? You’re okay.” 

Stiles’ grumble was muffled by the fabric of Derek’s shirt. Cuddling with his boyfriend took his mind off flying in a big way. 

 

He woke up some time later on his side with Derek wrapped around him. 

“Have a nice nap?”

“What time is it?” Stiles asked around a yawn. 

“3:30 California time. We should be in Paris in about four and a half hours.” 

“Can we stay back here for the rest of the flight?”

“You can,” Derek said, “but I need to get up and stretch my legs.” 

Begrudgingly, Stiles pulled himself out of the bed. 

 

They landed in Paris at 8:30 in the morning local time. Including a stop in New York to refuel the jet, it was a full 25 hours later than when they left Los Angeles. 

“How is it day time?” Stiles squinted against the sun. “What time is it back home?”

“10:30 last night,” Lydia said. 

“I’m gonna be fucked up for the next _week_. Please tell me we’re going to take a nap before we do anything.” 

“That’s the plan.” 

Derek’s status and his money got them through customs faster than Stiles ever would have imagined. They piled into the waiting limo that whisked them off to the hotel. 

*

After they all had a chance to nap and freshen up, they assembled in the suite’s living room to make plans. Somehow, Stiles lucked into visiting the Eiffel Tower alone with Derek. The other three wanted to meet up with Paige, who was in town for a fashion show. 

“They travelled 5,000 miles just to hang out with an American.” Stiles shook his head. 

“That’s what you’re doing.” 

Smirking, Derek twined their fingers together and tugged Stiles across the limo seat so he could tuck Stiles against his side. 

Out the window, the city lights glowed. Nothing lit up the sky like the Eiffel Tower. Stiles felt his excitement grow. 

The limo rolled to a stop, and Stiles couldn’t wait for the driver before he tumbled out of the car. 

“Wow,” he kept saying as he walked forward with his head tipped back. 

Derek came up behind him and put his hands on Stiles’ waist. “It’s pretty impressive, isn’t it?”

“It’s amazing.” 

“Do you want to go up inside?” 

Stiles twisted around. “I’m afraid of heights, or did you forget? I think I’ll forgo ascending the tallest structure in the European Union tonight.” 

“At least take a picture in front of it with me.” 

Their driver politely snapped a series of shots as Derek and Stiles posed, smiled, and kissed in front of the Eiffel Tower. 

Hand in hand, they walked along the Seine. 

“How is it that you have a degree in European history, but you’ve never been over here?”

“I told you: I’m afraid of flying. There were plenty of opportunities to study abroad when I was in college, but I couldn’t do it. Scott spent a semester in Barcelona. It sucked, hearing about everytvehing I missed.”

“And you don’t speak French. Not even a little?”

Stiles shook his head. “My grandmother was Polish. Uczyłem się języka od dziecka*. I also speak some Italian, che è vicino alla francese**. They’re both Romance languages. But I speak Polish much better than I write it, and Italian is just the opposite. Do you speak anything other than French?”

“"Hai. Watashi ha nihongo wo hanasu.***.” 

“I’m assuming that’s either Mandarin or Japanese.” 

“Japanese. If you think _Halefire_ is popular here, I should take you to Tokoyo some time. Their tastes are exotic, and the porn industry is big there.” 

“Believe me, I know. I was a teenage boy once.” 

They came to a ferry docked against the riverbank. 

“You’re not afraid of water, are you?” 

“No,” Stiles said, looking slightly bewildered. He spent much of his free time at in Mansion in the pool. 

“Good.” Derek headed down the embankment towards the ferry’s dock. “Because I booked us a dinner cruise.” 

Stiles couldn’t hide his surprise as Derek led him to the single, candle-lit table on the deck. 

A waiter materalized next to their table with a bottle of champagne that Stiles was sure cost more than most people made in a month. Derek said something in French to the man, and he walked away. 

“I ordered us an appetizer.” 

“You’re not going to make me eat goose liver, are you?”

Derek smiled. “No, it’s mostly just a bit of cheese and artichoke on bread. Are you okay with the champagne? I can ask him to bring you some water or a soda instead.” 

“That’s okay,” Stiles said. “One glass of champagne isn’t going to kill me.” He picked it up and toasted Derek. “To us.” 

They drank deeply. The champagne went down smoothly, making Stiles feel warm all over. 

The ferry had begun to coast down the Seine. They passed the National Residence of the Invalids on one side and the Great Palace on the other. 

“This is so incredible,” Stiles gushed. “I’ve only ever seen this stuff in books and on the Internet. It’s so much different in person. Bigger and smaller all at the same time, if that makes sense.” 

Stiles looked down at the menu, which was woefully in French. 

“Turn it over,” Derek said. 

To his great relief, Stiles found that the reverse side was written in English. “Thank god. I wouldn’t know foie gras from an omelette du fromage. Well, that I guess I would.” 

“I wouldn’t let you order anything unidentifiable.” 

The water returned with their amuse bouche. “Avez vous décidé?” 

Derek ordered first, and when he paused, Stiles jumped in. 

“Je voudrais manger le canard confit cassoulet.” He handed his menu to the waiter and looked at Derek. “I know I totally butchered that.” 

“It’s okay. You made a good effort.” 

The waiter said something that Stiles took to mean he would put their order in and left. 

“This is really amazing, Derek. I don’t know how to thank you for all this.” 

Derek covered Stiles’ hand with his own. “Just you being here means the world to me.” 

*

The others were still gone when Stiles and Derek got back, so they had the three-bedroom suite to themselves. In addition to the well-appointed living room and kitchenette were three bedrooms: one for the girls, one for the guys, and one for Derek. They had discussed the sleeping arrangements before leaving California. Every night, the Partners would trade sharing Derek’s room like they did at home. Collectively, they agreed that it would be the most fair solution to having three bedrooms when they normally had four. 

Stiles reeled Derek into a kiss. “Any chance we can make use of this unexpected alone time?” 

Derek pulled away, and Stiles knew from the look on his face that the answer was no. “I’m sorry, but it’s Allison’s night. It wouldn’t be fair if she came home and we were . . . “

Stiles nodded and rested his forehead against Derek’s temple. “I know.” He didn’t have to like it, but he had to accept it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thank you to mrs_sourwolf for help with the Polish translation and to everyone who chimed in about the Japanese! The others came from iTranslate, so if they're dead wrong, please feel free to help me fix them. I only speak English, so I have the utmost respect for multilingual people. The French probably sucks, and that's from my own limited memory. 
> 
> English translations below: 
> 
> *I learned the language from a young age.  
> **which is somewhat close to French  
> ***Yes, I speak Japanese.


	18. Catwalk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paige invites Derek and the Partners to a her runway show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: a big, huge thank you to magicninjafish, Delta_Immortal, Chibika, and petoit for the help with the Japanese! I was not expecting so many people to pitch in, so I _really_ appreciate that. 
> 
> And thank you to everyone who is still reading and commenting. This story just keeps growing. (I hope you aren't complaining!) This chapter is up over 2,000 words, partly because the first two paragraphs were cut from the previous chapter. They just work so good at the beginning of this one. 
> 
> My timelines may be off from Teen Wolf, so please forgive me; just remember that this is a future fic.

Stiles had thought their lifestyle in Los Angeles was swanky until he saw how the French tripped over themselves to accommodate Derek and his entourage. Everywhere they went, people opened doors and bowed to them as they walk by. _Halefire_ ’s popularity in Europe was mind blowing. Of course, Stiles couldn’t understand a word they said—he and Scott took Spanish in high school. He and Jennifer were the only ones who didn’t speak French. Jackson wasn’t fluent, but at least he could order something off a menu without help. 

But despite the language barrier and his normal out-of-place feelings, Stiles fell in love with Paris. The city was known for its romantic atmosphere, and that was no mistake.

Because Paige was walking in a fashion show, she invited them to attend. Stiles had never seen one, not even on TV, so he was both interested and hesitant. The set-up for this show looked the way Stiles had pictured it. (Lydia and Allison had told him stories of runways set up in pools and models walking up and down stairs in sky-high shoes. Stiles just hoped this show kept the surprises to the minimum. 

He and the others were seated in the front row next to the runway, no doubt due to Derek’s name and his relationship with Paige. The lights dimmed, and a sensual melody began. At the beginning of the runway, a pink light came on, followed by a gust of smoke. The music swelled, and a girl came strutting out of the wings of the stage. She wore a black lace bra and panty set. A sheer dressing gown trailed behind her like the tail feathers of a majestic bird. At the end of the runway, she paused for the cameras, pouted, and turned.

Stiles gasped. The model leading the show was Paige. 

“Doesn’t she look fantastic?” Allison whispered. 

Stiles forced himself to smile back. “She looks great.” Not only was he not in to women, he’d seen Paige naked, and he had had about enough of Derek’s exes. 

As the next girls came out, Stiles began to ignore the models and focus on the lingerie that he couldn’t think of as ‘garments.’ They were certainly interesting. He’d never seen so many different types of lingerie that somehow fit together into a collection. When the last look was shown, the models paraded out one last time. 

As the women left the stage, the designer walked out to thunderous applause. She was a petite young woman with long blonde hair—nothing nearly as remarkable as her designs.

Stiles followed suit when the people around him began to stand up. On stage, the designer stopped in the middle of the runway and put a microphone to her lips. “Thank you so much.” 

Stiles clutched at Allison’s arm. “I know her!” He hadn’t bothered to read the program before, but he grabbed for it now. 

_Heather Grant_ was emblazoned across the front in a metallic pink script. Sure enough, when Stiles opened it, Heather’s face was staring back at him, along with her biography—in French, of course, but he could pick out the important parts. 

_Ms. Grant a grandi dans le nord de la Californie, Etats-Unis. She a assisté à maragoni Instituto à Milan et lance sa première ligne en 2019. Les vêtements en vedette ce soir comprend 2024 collection printemps Heather Grant._

“Thank you so much for your support. Merci beacoup. Bonne nuit.” 

Heather left the stage, and the lights came back on. 

Stiles’ mind was racing as he followed Allison out of the hall. 

A reception had been set up in the foyer with hors d’oevres and champagne. Stiles watched as the others plucked up glasses; he snagged a sparkling water for himself. 

Derek seemed to know half the people in the room, for he was surrounded by a group speaking rapid-fire French. The other Partners held their own without looking like they were depending on each other. 

The models began to appear, and Allison and Lydia shrieked in excitement when they saw Paige. Stiles sipped his water and quietly distanced himself from them. 

“Stiles? Stiles Stilinski?” 

He turned around and found himself face-to-face with the woman of the hour. “Heather!” 

She flung her arms around Stiles and pulled him into a tight hug. “Goodness—what are you doing here? In Paris. At my show! It’s been—what? Eight years?” 

Embarrassed, Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m actually dating Derek Hale. We’re here for his birthday.” 

“ _Halefire_ Derek Hale?” Heather’s eyes widened in surprise. “Stiles, you dog! I never knew you were in to polyamory.” 

“Well, actually, I—“

“Stiles, how did you end up hogging Ms. Grant?” Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles’ waist and held out his hand. His face was all business. “I’m Derek Hale.” 

“Heather Grant, but please, call me Heather.” 

“Heather it is, then. So, how do you know my boyfriend?” 

Stiles clenched his teeth. He hated feeling like nothing more than an accessory. A pretty face to hang off Derek’s arm. 

“Stiles and I went to school together back in Beacon Hills.” 

“Really?” Derek looked genuinely surprised. 

“Is that so hard to believe?” Stiles asked defensively. 

“I just thought you would have told me something like that.” 

“We haven’t seen each other in nearly a decade,” Heather said. “But I’m so glad you came tonight. Not just because I got to see Stiles, but because I am so flattered to have Derek Hale at my show.” 

“One of my friends actually walked, which is how we found out about it, but now that I’ve seen your collection, I’d like to put my assistant in touch with your purchasing department. There were some designs I’d love to feature in _Halefire_.” 

“Thank you so much. That—you really don’t know how much that means to me.” 

Derek pulled a card out of his jacket and held it out. “The second number on there is my office—Jennifer handles all my calls.”

With a smile, Heather took the card. 

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Heather, but I’m sure we’ve monopolized enough of your time. Great work.”

“Thank you again. It was good to see you, Stiles!” 

He gave her a tight-lipped smile as Derek steered him away. They joined the girls and Jackson, who were circled around Paige. 

“Derek!” she exclaimed when she saw him and reached out for a hug. 

“You looked great up there. So good to see you.” 

“I’m so glad you guys came. I had no idea you’d be in Paris.” 

“We came over for my birthday. Are you going to be here much longer? We should do dinner.” 

“I wondered why I didn’t get an invitation to a big party this year. At least I know I didn’t get bumped off the invite list.” Paige took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray. “I’ll be here until Friday, and if I remember correctly, your birthday is tomorrow?”

“Yes. I have reservations to take everyone to _Le Cinq_ , but I’m sure they could make room if you’d like to join us.” 

Watching the exchange, Stiles clenched his teeth. 

Paige laid a hand on Derek’s arm. “Darling, I would, but my agency has got me booked solid. Maybe we can do something we we’re both back in LA.” 

Derek leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You bet.” 

They left Paige behind, but circulated the room a bit more. Derek talked business while Lydia, Allison, and Jackson made their own networking connections. 

Because Stiles seemed to be the only person in the room who didn’t speak any French, he snagged a plate of cheese and sat down on a bench to occupy himself. 

“Not much for the party, either?” a voice with a foreign accent asked. 

Mouth full of cheese, Stiles looked up at one of the models, who was watching him curiously. He hastened to swallow. “I don’t speak French, so I’m eating the cheese. Don’t want it to go to waste.”

“Seems like a good plan.” The girl sat down next to him. “I’m Caitlin. I don’t speak French, either. I heard you talking to your friends. Are you American?” 

“Yeah. How about you? I don’t want you to guess, since I’m sure I’d get it wrong.” 

“I’m from Australia. This is my first big runway show, so I’m somewhat overwhelmed. Heather has been super nice, though. I was really nervous about doing a show in Paris, since I don’t speak a lick of French, but since Heather is American, it makes things a lot easier for me. Of course, there’s Paige, too—she’s also American. Some of the other girls speak English, but it’s just nice to talk to someone who speaks your language. Sorry, I’m just talking your ear off.” 

“It’s okay,” Stiles said with a laugh. “Trust me, I’m just as glad as you are to meet someone who speaks my language, too.” 

Their conversation flowed naturally from language to differences between Australia and the States. Stiles was so engrossed in talking to Caitlin that he jumped in surprise when Derek touched his shoulder. 

“We’re gonna head out. Are you ready?”

“Yeah, sorry. Uh, Derek, this is Caitlin. Caitlin, this is my boyfriend, Derek.” 

Derek held his hand out and shook Caitlin’s perfunctorily. “Nice to meet you. Stiles, we’ve got to get going.” 

“Wait.” Caitlin’s eyes narrowed. “Derek . . . Hale? The _Halefire_ CEO?”

Derek gave her a tight smile. “That’s me.” 

“Oh, my Lord, I am such a huge fan of your magazine! I had no idea Stiles’ Derek was you.” Caitlin waved a hand. “Sorry, I know you’ve got to go. I twas nice to meet you both.” 

Stiles gave her a quick hug. “It was so nice to meet you, and even better having someone to talk to.”

“You, too, Stiles. I hope our paths cross again.” 

*

In the limo, the mood was light. Stiles, however, sat watching the city rolled by with his head against the window. 

“Hey.” Derek nudged him. “What are you so quiet for?”

Stiles shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“He seemed fine at the reception,” Lydia said. 

“Stop!” Stiles exclaimed as he turned away from the window. “Quit talking about me like I’m not even here! I’m sick of it! I’m pissed off because Derek shoved me to the side all ‘big kids are talking’ style with _my_ friend, Heather, and then practically ignored Caitlin when I tried to introduce you. Look, I’m sorry I’m the only one here who’s not part of _the industry_ or whatever, but that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. I’m also a _person_ with _feelings_ , and it feels like _shit_ to be brushed aside like I’m a child or something. Caitlin was the only person who talked to me today, and you ignoring her was a dick move, Derek. Do you only want Americans in your little harem?” Chest heaving, Stiles finished his tirade. His eyes flicked to each of the other occupants of the limo. They all looked equally shell-shocked. 

“Stiles, that’s not fair,” Derek said at the same time Jackson said, “He’s got a point.” 

Lydia pursed her lips. “So you’re on his side, now?”

“It’s not about taking sides,” Allison said with strain in her voice. 

“Stiles,” Derek said through clenched teeth, “can we please wait to talk about this until we get back to the hotel?”

“There’s nothing else to talk about.” Stiles crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve said everything I needed to say.” 

The rest of the ride was silent. 

When they got back to the suite, Stiles stomped in first and shut himself in the bathroom. He turned on the bathtub faucet, and with trembling hands, dug his phone out of his pocket. It took a moment for the call to connect. 

“Hey, Kiddo. How’s Paris?” 

Stiles slid down the side of the tub to sit on the floor. The porcelain tub was warm against his back. 

“I wanna come home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heather's biography in English:
> 
>  
> 
> _Ms. Grant grew up in northern California, USA. She attended Instituto Maragoni in Milan and launched her first line in 2019. The clothing featured tonight is the Heather Grant Spring 2024 collection._
> 
>  
> 
> And Caitlin's Australian. Sue me. It works with my plot. XD
> 
> Thanks for reading! xx 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments (or if the French is dreadful)!


	19. For the Man Who Has Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek celebrates his birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this up like a week ago, but my car died, so I was dealing with getting a new one. (No worries, I have a beautiful new car, but it's been a _busy_ week. I should have the next chapter up in a day or two.) 
> 
> Once again, thank you to mrs_sourwolf for the help with the Polish translation. I very much appreciate you indulging me! 
> 
> Most of all: THANK YOU to everyone who has been reading/commenting/leaving kudos. You guys are the best!

After the phone call with his dad, Stiles turned off the faucet. 

Nothing remained for anyone to hear.

The silence of the bathroom threatened to overwhelm Stiles. He couldn’t tell if the others were still in the suite or not. 

Someone knocked on the door. 

He jumped in surprised and dropped his phone. It made a clacking noise as it hit the tile floor. “Fuck,” Stiles whispered as he bent down to pick it up. 

“Stiles?” Derek called through the door. “Will you come out here, please? Everyone else left.”

Although he wrapped his fingers around the door handle, he couldn’t make himself turn it. 

“Stiles . . . ” Derek sighed. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Stiles opened the door, but remained inside the bathroom to use the threshold like a line of demarcation between them. “I’m listening.” 

“No matter how terrible this is going to sound, the truth is that I was thinking about business today. Lydia and Jackson and Allison—they all hold their own at things like that. I wasn’t trying to ignore you or your friend—Caitlin. My head was full of ideas for the next issue of the magazine.” 

“Is that why you kissed Paige?” 

Derek cocked an eyebrow. “On the cheek because she’s my friend. Is that different from you kissing Malia?” 

Stiles’ stomach dropped. In a small voice, he said, “She kissed me.”

“I know. She told me. But you throwing Paige in my face because you’re upset is just as bad. All I can offer is an apology. If you don’t want to go to an event, then let me know. You’ve got to tell me, Stiles. I’ve told you before.” 

“I called my dad,” Stiles said slowly, “and I told him I want to come home.” 

Derek had to swallow twice before he could speak. “If that’s what you want, I’ll have Jennifer arrange a flight.” 

“My dad asked me if I love you. I told him that I do, and he told me to man the fuck up because relationships are hard.” 

“He actually said that?”

“Not in so many words, but yeah.” 

“If you want to leave, Stiles, I won’t stop you.” 

“I don’t want to leave you or Paris. I just . . . “

“Wish things were different,” Derek finished for him.

Stiles nodded. 

“Will you come sit down? I told you: everyone else is gone.” 

 

They settled on the couch, and Stiles left enough room for another person to sit between them. 

“Stiles, I don’t want to keep having the same conversation with you, so tell me: What can I do to make sure this doesn’t happen again?”

As he sorted through his thoughts, Stiles rubbed his hands down his thighs. With so much swirling in his mind, he had a hard time deciding what to say. “It’s not that I don’t like doing the . . . public thing with you. I thought the fashion show was really cool.”

Derek nodded silently and allowed Stiles to speak. 

“But when we got to the reception, you abandoned me. Then, when you realized I had a connection you didn’t—to the _designer_ , no less, you remembered I exist. _Then_ , you dragged me over to see Paige. I like Paige. She’s cool, you know, but what really hurt is that you weren’t treating me like your boyfriend, but you were treating _her like your girlfriend_.”

As Stiles ticked the infractions off on his fingers, Derek had the decency to look ashamed. 

“And _then_ , if all that wasn’t enough, you abandoned me _a second time_ only to turn around and practically insult the _only person in the whole room_ who cared to acknowledge my existence. How do you think you would feel if I took you to Warsaw and spoke only Polish?” Stiles paused only long enough to let that sink in. “ _No i jak się teraz czujesz, co? Nie rozumiesz ani słowa z tego co mówię_ *. You’d feel like shit. But you know what? I wouldn’t do that to you, Derek, because I’m a decent human being.” 

“You’re right,” Derek said, and Stiles almost couldn’t believe his ears. “You are the last person who deserves to be treated like that. I cake for granted the fact that you’re not like any of the other people I’ve dated.”

Stiles scoffed. 

“But that’s what I love about you, Stiles. And it kills me to think that I hurt you—unintentionally. You’re not like the others, which means I can’t treat you like them. From here on out, I promise I’ll be more conscious about what you need, rather than what I think you need. But you have to tell me when I push you past your limit.” 

“Okay.” Stiles forced a smile. “You hit my limit. Before we go out in public like that again, I want to talk to you so I know what I’m getting myself in to.” 

“You got it.”

Stiles leaned forward and pecked a kiss on Derek’s lips. “In that case, I’m going to bed.” 

As he walked past, Derek grabbed his arm. “If you want to spend the night with me, Jackson said he’d switch you.”

“I think we should just leave things the way they are. Goodnight, Derek.” 

Stiles walked to the bedroom and shut the door firmly behind him. 

*

“Well, Honey,” Lydia said over breakfast, “I know it’s impossible to surprise you, and I know you’ve already planned something for tonight. So.” She slid a brightly wrapped package about the size of a shoebox across the table. 

Derek’s eyes flicked form the box to Lydia. “I thought I told you not to get me anything.” 

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Like we were going to listen. Besides, I can’t return that.”

Curiosity piqued, Derek began to pull at the bow and wrapping paper. He opened the box, and with reverent hands, pulled out a book. “Is this—“

“First edition of _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_ ,” Lydia said proudly. 

“Wow.” Derek opened the cover like he was handling a newborn baby. “Lyds, this is incredible. This was my favourite book growing up. Laura used to read it to me so I’d fall asleep. Thank you so much.” 

Standing up, Allison said, “I’m next. Can I be next?” Without waiting for an answer, she disappeared from the room and returned a moment later with long, thin blanket bundle that she laid on Derek’s lap. “Be careful,” she said as she stepped away. 

Derek picked at the edge of the blanket. His partners watched as he lifted up a shiny katana. 

“I don’t want you to be stuck with a sword you can’t use, so I found someone back in LA who can teach you kenjutusu.” 

“Thank you,” Derek said. “Now I can put more than just my _Nihongo_ to use.” 

Jackson passed Derek an envelope. “I’m not prefacing mine.” 

Derek opened the card. “’Since the girls will never go, I got us floor seats.’ To the _NBA finals_? Jackson!” Glancing up, Derek’s eyes were wide. “This is amazing. Just—wow.”

Last in line, Stiles had begun to feel more and more like his gift was inferior. All he had to give Derek was a single piece of paper. “That, um, establishes a non-profit organization in your name to support the conservation of the wild wolves that were discovered in California about a decade ago.” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “Jennifer helped me file the paperwork. I didn’t know what else—“

“Stiles, this is awesome. I love it.” 

“Yeah?”

“What I love most is that you know me so well. You all do. And you all mean so much to me.”

“Happy birthday, Derek,” Allison said. 

They took turns kissing Derek and returned to their chairs. 

“So what’s the plan, birthday boy?” Jackson asked. 

“Well, after dinner, I though I could take you guys to _Palais Garnier_ to see _Don Carlos_.”

Allison, Jackson, and Lydia erupted in a flurry of excited speech. Stiles smiled. They were headed for the opera. 

 

Before they left for dinner, Derek snagged Stiles and pulled him away from the others. “Does this count as a public event?”

“Only if you plan on schmoozing between acts,” Stiles replied. 

“Not tonight.” Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles’ waist. “It’s my birthday.” 

 

The limo pulled up in front of _Le Cinq_ , and the French paparazzi were already waiting. 

Derek stepped out first to roaring screams of excitement. He helped Allison, Lydia, and Jackson out of the car. When it was Stiles’ turn, to his great surprise, he was pulled tightly against Derek’s side and held there until they got into the restaurant. 

“Not that I don’t appreciate it,” Stiles said as they were seated at their table, “but what was that about?”

“Just spreading the love,” Derek with a meaningful look. “Just because Lydia has been with me the longest and shares my bedroom doesn’t mean she needs to stand next to me every time. That was a scheme dreamt up by my PR team. You mean more than that.” 

Heart swelling, Stiles wiggled a little n his chair as he picked up his menu. 

*

The opera afforded them a better opportunity to blend into the crowd, since they were no longer the only ones dressed in evening gowns and tuxedos. An usher led them to their box, and Lydia passed out opera glasses. 

“I thought you were hiding dessert in that giant purse,” Jackson said with a smirk. 

Lydia scowled. “Five courses not enough for you, Jackson? If you’re still hungry, you can eat my ass.” 

“I would, but that would take days.” 

Ignoring the banter, Stiles took in the interior of _Palais Garnier_. The building was like a castle, gilded gold and velvet red. A giant glass chandelier lit up the magnificently painted ceiling. 

Derek leaned towards him. “What do you think?”

“It’s exquisite—there’s no other words.” Stiles realized he was gaping and closed his mouth.

Below, the orchestra came to life, and the audience fell silent. As Stiles watched the story unfold, the beauty of the singers’ voices brought tears to his eyes. He hung on every word until the cast took their final bows. 

 

Even on the way home, Stiles remained fixated on the power and emotion he felt in the actors’ words, even if they were speaking French. 

“Are you okay?” Derek asked when the bedroom door shut behind them. 

Stiles knew he’d held the question in after what happened the last time he asked. “I’m fine.” He gave Derek a genuine smile. “I’m great, actually.”

He wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. “Happy birthday.” 

Derek’s hands slid under the back of Stiles’ shirt, but Stiles stopped him. “Not here.” 

Confused, Derek pulled away. “What do you mean?”

“Having sex at the Mansion is one thing, but I’m not comfortable with these paper-thin walls.” He hadn’t heard Derek with any of the others since they’d been in Paris, but still. 

Derek pouted. “It’s my birthday.” 

“But my body is not your present.” Stiles smoothed Derek’s beard with his hands. “How about we cuddle and watch a movie?”

“Okay.” Derek kissed him again. “Can we do it naked?” 

Stiles had to smile at that. “Yes.” 

 

* _How does this feel, huh? You can’t understand a word I’m saying._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is love. xx


	20. I'm thankful for...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanksgiving at the Mansion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been super busy the last couple of days. I wanted to have this out yesterday, but alas. Enjoy!
> 
> Just a note that I will repeat: Once this fic is finished, I will be Archive-locking it to protect it from bots. (My fics have been reposted on weird ebook websites for download, and I'm NOT okay with that.)

Thanksgiving quickly followed their return from Paris. Since the Mansion could hold a small army, Derek paid to fly each of his Partners’ families to Los Angeles and put them up for the weekend. Derek’s sisters, Peter, and Malia were also staying at the Mansion for the weekend. For Stiles, that meant his dad, Scott, and Melissa. 

He smiled politely as he met Jackson’s and Lydia’s parents and Allison’s father. But he stayed stationed at his bedroom window waiting for _his_ family to arrive. 

Finally, a limo pulled into the drive, and Stiles tore out of his room like it was on fire. He tripped over the rug in the hall and went down hard. Undeterred, Stiles jumped up and jogged down the stairs as fast as he could. 

The limo driver was just opening the car door when Stiles ran out of the house. 

“Dad!” he exclaimed, fairly jumping into the elder Stilinski’s arms. 

With a grunt, John caught his son.”Good to see you, too, Kid.”

Next out of the car was Melissa, and then Scott, both of whom Stiles hugged tightly. 

“I’m so glad you came!” 

Melissa gazed up at the Mansion. “I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe you live here.” 

“Come on in. I’ll show you to your room.”

 

Once the introductions were over, Derek assembled everyone—family, friends, and Partners—in the informal living room so they could get to know one another. 

Stiles stood back from the group, watching his dad engage in a conversation with Lydia about foreign affairs while Allison’s dad compared pistols with Peter. It was all so very domestic, and Stiles’ heart swelled with affection. 

“What are you thinking about?”

His reverie was broken by Allison, who had sidled up next to him. “Just . . amused.” 

She followed his line of sight. “It is pretty amusing, isn’t it? Derek likes to get everyone together during the holidays, and he really means everyone.” 

“I’m just so stoked to have my family here.” 

“Your step-mom is really nice.” 

Across the room, Melissa was talking to Jackson’s parents. It didn’t seem like they would have anything in common, but Melissa appeared to be enjoying herself. 

Allison’s face morphed into something Stiles couldn’t read. “Come here.” She took him by the arm and led him into the hall. 

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked. “What’s going on? Is it something with Melissa?” He’d never seen Allison look so nervous.

“I don’t want to keep this from you any longer. I feel like I—we’re lying to you.” 

Stiles’ blood ran cold. His mind swirled with scenarios of Derek kicking him out of the Mansion—this party as a nice way to say _fuck off_. 

“Just tell me.” 

“I’m leaving Derek.” 

The words took several long moments to sink in. “You’re—“ Stiles lowered his voice. “You’re _leaving_. Why? Where are you going?”

“Back to Reno with my parents. I’m just ready to make a change. I’ve been ‘Derek’s Allison’ for so long that I’m ready to be Allison Argent again. Besides, my dad offered me a position working in our family’s gun shop.” 

“You’re giving all this up to go sell guns?”

“I’ve got an MBA from Brown, so I’d be doing the books.”

“Is that why you never agreed to be in the magazine? Because you’re the smart one?” Stiles blanched. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“I just never wanted to. I’m not the girl who relies on her looks, so it’s been somewhat of a struggle to exist as a pretty face.” 

“Tell me about it. So, you’re really leaving. When do you plan on telling Derek?” 

“Probably on Saturday. I don’t want to ruin his holiday.” 

Stiles nodded. Once she left, it would just be him, Jackson, and Lydia. Until Derek brought another Partner to the Mansion. The thought made him sick. 

 

He managed to put on a brave face when he and Scott piled into their parents’ bedroom that night. 

“Well, I’m glad I finally got to meet Derek,” Melissa said. 

“And?” Stiles asked. Nervous, he waited to hear what his step-mother thought of his boyfriend. 

“Well.” Melissa paused. “He’s handsome, very charming, but I’m just not sure how I feel about him dating so many other people.” 

Stiles’ face fell.

“Oh, Honey, I don’t mean that in a bad way. If you’re happy, I’m happy. I just want to know that you _are_ happy.” 

“I am,” Stiles said. “Believe it or not, I’m really happy here. And when I’m not, I’ll leave.” Like Allison. 

*

On Thanksgiving Day, the assembled family lounged around the Mansion as they waited for dinner. 

Peter cornered Stiles in the library, and Stiles, not wanting to be rude, remained seated and smiled politely. 

“Happy Thanksgiving, Stiles,” Peter said. “I know my nephew is glad to have you here.” 

Stiles bit his tongue before he could say, _Aren’t you?_

“And my daughter sure seems to have taken a liking to you.”

_Shit._ So that’s what this was about. “Malia’s great,” Stiles said weakly. How could he explain to her father that he wasn’t interested in women, let alone the cousin of the man who would eventually be his ex-boyfriend? 

“She’s a good kid. Of course, her mother died when she was little. It’s just been the two of us ever since.” 

“My family is the same way. My mom passed away when I was 10, but my dad got remarried a few years ago. Do you ever plan to get remarried?”

Peter shook his head. “Caroline was it for me. I could never find another woman like her.” 

“You could try dating men, I suppose.” 

Peter flashed his teeth. “That might be an option if the sight of another man’s penis didn’t repel me. My nephew seems to like it well enough.” 

Seeing his opportunity, Stiles took it. “I tend to feel the same way about girl parts. They’re all . . . slippery and jiggly. Nothing about Derek jiggles.” 

“Yes, well, having a personally trainer certainly has its benefits. I hope, for your sake, that you’ve moved on to greener pastures by the time Derek inevitably becomes . . . jiggly.” 

Peter stood up. “Excuse me. I believe I need to make use of the facilities.” 

Stiles sighed in relief as Peter left the room, but it was short-lived. A moment later, Cora appeared in the doorway. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re here to advocate for your cousin.” Stiles said before she could start in on him. 

“Considering your dating my brother, that would be weird, don’t you think? I just came to say hi. I think you scared Uncle Peter away.”

“He’s really attached to the idea of me dating Malia, and I think she is, too. I know they’re your relatives, but I’m sorry, that’s just creepy.” 

“Seriously, don’t sweat it. Malia is just very direct about what she wants. Plus, she’s an only child, so after my aunt died, Uncle Peter went a bit overboard spoiling her. Really, Stiles, don’t think too far into it. It’s not like Peter’s trying to _buy_ you from Derek or something.” 

Stiles smiled weakly. That’s exactly what it felt like.

*

The temperature hovered around 70, despite it being mid-November. Mostly everyone gathered around the pool since it was heated and they could still swim. 

Scott, Stiles, and Jackson took turns doing cannonballs and seeing who could splash the girls the most. Derek stood sentry over it all like a mother hen guarding her chicks. 

“Derek!” Jackson called. “Get in the pool with us!”

Smirking, Derek walked closer, but stayed out of the splash zone. “My suit’s upstairs.”

“Jump in without it. It’s your house, and half of us have already seen you naked.” 

“This half would like to keep separate things separate, thanks!” Laura called across the patio. 

“How about we save skinny dipping for when it’s just us. You guys should probably get out soon, anyway. Dinner’s in about an hour.”

“We’ve got plenty of time.” Scott ducked under the water, but Stiles swam for the ladder. 

“You guys can keep swimming, but I’m gonna get a shower. My hair feels like straw if I don’t wash the chlorine out right away.” 

*

Stiles had just started to soap up when he heard the door to the bathroom open. 

“Scotty?” he called. “Go pee if you need to! I’ll be out in a minute! Just don’t flush the toilet!” 

The curtain opened and a gust of cold air hit him. 

Mouth open, Stiles turned around. His shock disappeared as he laid eyes on a nude Derek stepping into the shower. 

“How’s this for privacy?” 

Tilting his head back, Stiles hurried to rinse the shampoo from his hair. “Does anyone know where you’re at?”

Derek shrugged and slid his hands over Stiles’ wet skin. “I don’t really care. They’ll probably figure it out. So what? You’re my boyfriend, and like Jackson said, it’s my house.” 

Stiles’ mind was spinning with excuses, reasons they couldn’t—shouldn’t, but his cock was firming steadily between his legs. For once, he relaxed and let his libido take over. 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he murmured against Derek’s lips. 

Derek hummed in reply. “We’ve never had sex in the shower, either.” He licked at the underside of Stiles’ jaw, his throat. 

“We don’t have much time . . . “ Stiles swallowed his words as Derek sank to his knees. 

The water cascaded over Stiles’ shoulders and dripped down Derek’s eyebrows and cheekbones. He looked up with water droplets in his eyelashes. Stiles’ balls throbbed with want to paint that beautiful face. 

Keeping Stiles’ gaze, Derek took ahold of his cock. He jacked it a few times, opened his mouth, and placed it on his tongue like a tootsie pop. 

“You gonna suck it or play with it?” Stiles asked. Playfully, he canted his hips forward to push his cock deeper into Derek’s mouth. 

“I’ll take you apart later.” Derek sucked Stiles’ cock as far back into his mouth as he could go. 

Stiles clutched at Derek’s shoulder with a whimper. Having his cock in Derek’s mouth was almost better than having sex with him. “God, you are so good at that,” Stiles said as Derek worked him over with his mouth. 

He let Derek suck him for a few more minutes before he stepped away. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Stiles pulled Derek to his feet. “I have an idea.” 

He pushed Derek against the shower wall and crowded in close to him. One hand he wrapped around Derek’s neck and the other he used to fist both of their cocks. 

“Oooh, yeah,” Derek groaned in his ear. His hands clenched and unclenched the flesh of Stiles’ backside.

Derek came first. 

He bit down on the meat of Stiles’ shoulder hard enough to leave a mark, but instead of wilting his erection, it pushed Stiles over his own edge. Panting, he slouched against Derek as their combined release swirled down the drain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is love. xx


	21. Love and Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and his Partners face change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The title of this chapter was taken from a New Found Glory song. Doo bee doo._
> 
> I'm very slowly catching up to where I want to be. I'm so behind. *weeps*
> 
> Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

For the rest of the long weekend, Stiles remained tense. He kept anticipating the news that Allison would be leaving. 

Finally, on Saturday afternoon, Ennis came to fetch Stiles while he was sitting with his parents and Scott on the patio. 

“Mister Stiles, Mister Hale wishes to see you.” 

Stiles made his excuses to his family and followed the butler inside. His stomach was swirling with anxiety. he felt like a child being called to the principal’s office even though he’d done nothing wrong. 

Ennis left Stiles in front of Derek’s bedroom door. 

Steeling himself for the worst, Stiles walked inside. Judging by the tears in Lydia’s eyes, Allison had already told them. 

“What’s going on?” he asked. He honored Allison’s trust by playing dumb. 

“Sit down, Stiles,” Derek said. 

Feeling like he wasn’t as informed as he thought, Stiles sat. 

“We just found out that Paige was killed in a car accident.” 

Stiles had to play the words over in his head several times before they sank in. They had just seen her in Paris. “She was supposed to have dinner with us” is what comes out of his mouth. 

They sat in stunned silence until the shock gave way to tears. 

*

Paige was buried on Tuesday, and Allison left on Wednesday. The Mansion had never felt so empty. The remaining four curled up together in Derek’s bed with a bowl of popcorn and a stack of funny movies. They couldn’t bear to be alone, and sometimes, the tears fell too freely.

“We should do a tribute edition of the magazine,” Lydia said. “It can be like a special collector’s edition. Maybe we can even include some photos from her runway shows.” 

“It wouldn’t take that long to put together,” Derek said. “Considering . . . “ He pulled in a hitching breath and let it out in a sigh. 

“We know.” Jackson laid a possessive hand on Derek’s thigh. “I feel like we could do more, though. Something for her family like a fundraiser or something, maybe. I don’t know.” 

“What about a charity fashion show?” Stiles, who had been curled up against Derek’s left side, lifted his head. “You told Heather you wanted to feature your girls in her designs. What better time than now?”

“That might be a good idea,” Lydia said. “We could even plan the magazine release around it and sort of have our own celebration of her life. I hate to call it a wake because that sounds so . . . sad.” 

“I know,” Derek agreed. Losing Paige had been hard, and losing Allison had been harder. “I’ll call Heather myself and see what she thinks. Stiles, maybe your friend Caitlin would like to come.” 

Stiles pinched Derek’s leg. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” 

“Is it working?”

“Yeah, maybe a little bit.” 

*

In the week following, their lives went back to normal—at least, as normal as it got for them. 

Derek threw himself into the magazine. He spent long hours at the studio, and came home late. They hardly had dinner together. 

Lydia split her time between the Mansion and the studio. She didn’t have to spend as much time away as Derek, but when she was home, she locked herself in their shared bedroom. 

Jackson was the only one Stiles saw much of because they both liked to use the swimming pool in the morning. 

Without Allison, the Mansion was a downright ghost town. The only benefit to her absence was the increase in nights spent with Derek, but his current mood put a damper on even that. 

It was nearly midnight before Derek knocked on Stiles’ bedroom door. 

“Come in!” Stiles called. He was already lying in bed reading a book. 

Derek came into the room in a suit and tie. 

“Did you just get home?” 

“Yeah.” Derek tugged at his tie with one hand and rubbed his eyes with the other. “Do you mind if I take a shower?”

“Of course not. Help yourself. You . . . should know where everything is.” 

“Indeed.” Dropping a kiss on Stiles head, Derek walked into the bathroom. 

He emerged 15 minutes later wrapped in a towel and smelling like Stiles’ body wash. 

Stiles set his book on the nightstand. “Feel better?”

“Much.” 

“Good.” Stiles got up from the bed and gestured at it. “Lay down. On your stomach.” 

“Towel on or off?”

“It’s up to you.” 

“Well, then.” Derek dropped his towel and laid down on the bed. The firm globes of his ass demanded Stiles stop and stare for a moment, but he fought the desire to bury his face between them. The oil that they used for lube sometimes was already on the nightstand; Stiles drizzled it across Derek’s broad back. It made the ink of his tattoo glisten darker. 

As soon as Stiles put his hands down, Derek let out a throaty moan. 

“I’ve hardly touched you.” 

“Feels good. I haven’t had a massage in far too long.” 

Stiles rubbed his hands across Derek’s skin to spread out the oil. “Don’t you have a masseuse on staff?”

Derek grunted. “It wouldn’t be worth the money. I’m too busy most days, plus with all the Partners—you guys—there’s just not a lot of time left for me.” 

Humming in reply, Stiles ran his palms up Derek’s back. He watched as the tattooed skin bunched and distorted the design. Perhaps, he thought, if Derek narrowed his pool of lovers down to one, he would have more time for himself. 

“You’re really tight,” Stiles said as he paid special attention to a knot in Derek’s shoulder. 

Derek snorted. 

“I’m not rising to that. Seriously, you’ve got to be in pain. I should rub some IcyHot on this.”

“There—should be some in the bathroom.” 

“I’ll get it when I’m done.” 

Derek fell silent as Stiles worked his fingers into the tight places in his back. 

When his hands were tired and Derek’s breathing was deep enough for him to be asleep, Stiles eased his way off the bed. 

Derek cracked open an eye. “Are you done already?”

“My hands are almost numb.” Stiles ran an oil-slick finger down Derek’s bicep. “I’m just gonna grab the IcyHot. I’ll be right back.” 

He returned a moment later and squired a quarter-sized amount of gel into his hand. It tingled as he rubbed it into Derek’s shoulder. 

Stiles kissed the back of Derek’s head. “Let me wash my hands, and I’ll be right back.” 

Derek hardly muttered a reply when Stiles slipped into the bed. 

*

At Madame Tussaud’s, Kelly, the girl who normally worked the front desk, was on vacation, which left Stiles to do her job. In some ways, it was more entertaining than hanging out with wax figures and scaring tourists. Plus, Blanche didn’t care if Stiles read a book on her time, so long as he was present to sell tickets and answer questions. He practically felt like he was working at a real museum. 

The doorbell jingled and Stiles hurried to finish the paragraph he was on. “Just a moment,” he said without looking up. 

“Don’t hurry on our account.” 

Stiles did look up, then, right into the eyes of the real Erica Reyes. He couldn’t hide the shock on his face. 

Next to Erica stood Boyd, looking as normal as you please. 

“Did Derek finally take away your allowance?” 

Stiles marked his place and closed the book. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I’m not the kind of person who likes to lie around and eat bonbons all day.” 

“Neither am I.” Erica flashed a toothy smile. “That’s why I left.” 

“So what are you doing back here?”

Erica’s expression softened. “We were in town for Paige’s funeral.” 

“Really? I didn’t see you there.” 

“We went to the visitation. Boyd had a prior engagement.” 

“Don’t people put everything on hold when there’s a funeral? It’s not like anyone plans for one.” 

“Regardless of what you might think, Stiles, I’m not the enemy. Isn’t this what you wanted? All of us to move out so you can have Derek to yourself? I heard Allison moved out.” 

“How do you know that? The public hasn’t caught wind of it yet.” 

“People talk, and I still have friends at the Mansion. It’s not a prison, you know, despite what you may want to believe.” 

Stiles pressed his lips into a thin line. 

“Don’t get too attached, lover boy. A tiger doesn’t change its stripes.” 

Boyd wrapped an arm around Erica’s shoulders. “We have other things to do day. Could we have admission for two, please?”

“Of course.” Stiles took the money Boyd held out and punched some numbers into the computer. Two tickets printed out, and Stiles handed them over with a fake smile. “Enjoy your visit to Madame Tussaud’s, and if you have any questions, just let me know.” 

“Well, Stiles,” Erica said, “I’m sure it will be a spectacle I’ll never forget.” 

*

As soon as Stiles got home, he sought out Lydia. He found her with Jackson playing what looked to be a very intense game of chess. 

“Lydia, can I—“

She shushed him with a gesture of her hand. Then, she picked up her queen and moved it two spaces. “Checkmate.” Sitting back in her chair, she turned to Stiles. “What did you want to say?”

“I want to talk to you for a minute.” His eyes flicked to Jackson. “Alone, if you don’t mind.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jackson pushed away from the table. “I’ll find out, anyway. Lyds—rematch tomorrow?”

“As long as you’re prepared to get your ass kicked.” 

“Oh, I can’t wait,” Jackson said sarcastically. He left the library and closed the door behind him. 

“So what’s up? More top secret information about Derek?”

“Not exactly. Did you know that Erica and Boyd are in town?”

“Of course,” Lydia said. “Don’t look so surprised. She’s still my friend.” 

“Did you also tell her that Allison left?”

“No. That’s Derek’s business. Maybe Allison told her. What’s the matter, anyway?”

Stiles couldn’t answer that. Couldn’t tell her that something about Erica bothered him, even though she had already left. “I’m just worried.” 

“About Derek? Don’t be. He can handle himself. Especially with someone like Erica. Do you really think he hasn’t had backstabbing Partners before? He may be a shrewd businessman, but he’s still human. Sometimes the heart wants what it wants, even if it hurts.” 

Stiles nodded and thanked Lydia. He couldn’t tell her that it wasn’t Derek he was worried about—it was himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paige's death was _not_ one of the things planned since the beginning. It just sort of happened. Sorry, folks. It's canon. 
> 
> If you want to chat/ask questions/rant/squee about Hoechlin's face, the best place to find me is [@moitmiller on Twitter](https://twitter.com/moitmiller). I'm still on Tumblr @moitmiller, but that's just so hard to access on my phone.


	22. Ringin in the New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek throws a New Year's Eve party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting caught up, friends! This weekend has been great for writing. 
> 
> Please enjoy. We're getting so close to the end, and it's reallyreally starting to take shape in my head.

One of the biggest Mansion parties Derek held was on New Year’s Eve. It was also the best time to garner support from Heather about doing a memorial for Paige. First, Derek had to has out the details of the party with Stiles as he promised to do. 

The bed sheet covered only Stiles’ thighs, leaving his pale backside bare but for the red mark Derek had sucked into one cheek. 

“Are you okay with me talking business at the party?”

Stiles lifted his head from the pillow. “You really want to talk about that right now? Come back to bed. I’m all sleepy and warm and . . . “ He took a deep breath and let it out in a slow sigh. “ . . . _very_ satisfied.” 

“That’s the idea.” Derek finished buttoning his shirt and leaned down to brush his fingertips over Stiles’ freckled skin. His touch lingered along the small of Stiles’ back. “Truthfully, I just want to honor the promise I made you in Paris. And what better time to talk about our last fight than when you’re cozy and malleable?” Derek walked his fingertips up the length of Stiles’ spine. 

Stiles reached back, caught Derek’s wrist, and pulled it to his mouth. “What are you trying to talk me in to?” He looked up at Derek with eyes that glowed gold in the morning sunlight. 

The edge of the bed dipped as Derek sat down. “I just want to make sure you won’t be upset if I talk to Heather about Paige’s memorial at the party. I said I would talk to her about it in person, and I’d like to talk to some other people about it, too, but I don’t want you to feel abandoned or neglected.” 

“Tell you what.” Stiles rolled onto his back and pulled Derek closer. “I won’t interrupt you when you’re talking business as long as you don’t ignore me when I _do_ want your attention. And I get the first kiss at midnight.” 

“Shouldn’t you be talking to Lydia and Jackson about that one?”

“No.” Stiles brushed his nose against Derek’s cheek. “This is about the only part of you I can have first. I deserve the first kiss at midnight.” 

“Far enough. It’s yours.” Derek kissed him, and again for good measure. “I’ve gotta get to work. Will you be okay here?”

“I suppose. If I get bored, I’ll have memories from last night . . . and again last night . . . and this morning to keep me company.” Stiles leaned up for one more kiss. “Have a good day at work, Darling.” 

*

On Stiles’ end, only Scott showed up for the New Year’s Eve party. Their parents had decided to stay home and “let the kids enjoy Amateur Night.” 

Derek packed the Mansion as usual, but forwent a dress code for the last party of the year. Grateful, Stiles wore jeans instead of an awful pair of booty shorts or some crazy costume. He actually felt comfortable at this party. Even the pre-party photos lifted something inside of him, but that also could have been because Stiles got to stand next to Lydia, rather than on the far side of Allison. 

“I think,” Scott said, raising his glass of champagne, “that this is the best one yet. Holy fuck, there’s Allison.” 

Stiles spun around and followed Scott’s line of sight. Sure enough, Allison stood talking to one of the _Halefire_ models Stiles knew in passing. 

“Allison!” Stiles called. Excited, he waved her over. 

She finished her conversation and walked over to them. They both hugged her tightly. Stiles hadn’t seen her since she left, and Scott hadn’t seen her since Thanksgiving. 

“How are you?” Stiles asked. “How’s Reno? I had no idea you’d be here. I didn’t even see you come in.” 

“Reno’s great. It’s so nice to be back home. As for the party, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to come until like two days ago.” She narrowed her attention to Scott. “Lydia told me you were going to be here. I wanted to see you. Again.” 

“I’m—yeah—totally—I wanted to see you, too. Absolutely. It’s great that you’re here, too. Again.” 

Stiles snickered. “Scotty, you’re rambling.” He knew where this was going but couldn’t begrudge Scott or Allison. They were both single, free agents capable of dating anyone at any time. In fact, Stiles envied them. “I’m just gonna go . . . eat the food.” 

Scott gave him a wink as he slipped away. 

Stiles wove his way between the guests until he spotted Derek talking to Lydia and Jennifer. Perfect. 

Sidling up to his boyfriends side, Stiles slid an arm around Derek’s waist. “How much time do we have until midnight?” 

“About 20 minutes.” 

“Have you talked to Heather, yet?”

“I have.” 

“And? Don’t leave me hanging.” 

“He likes to see you squirm,” Lydia said. 

“I could take that so many ways right now.” Derek shook his head. “She said yes. She’s actually really excited about the idea.” 

“Yes!” Stiles threw his arms around Derek’s neck. “This is going to be awesome!”

“You’re so easy to please,” Derek purred in Stiles’ ear. 

Despite the crowd of people around them, heat pooled low in Stiles’ belly. “I’m gonna circulate the room,” he said as he twisted out of Derek’s grip. 

“The countdown starts in 15 minutes.”

“I’ll be back in 10.” 

All Stiles needed was time enough to cool down before he embarrassed himself in front of a few hundred people. He said hi to some of the models he knew, avoided Peter at all costs, and spotted Scott and Allison getting cozy on a sofa. 

Unable to resist the temptation, Stiles plonked himself down between them. “Hey, guys. Big plans for midnight?”

Allison’s cheeks reddened and she tok a sip of her drink. 

Scott just rolled his eyes. “Should you be making your own plans? Or eating the entire buffet or something? You haven’t been gone very long.” 

“Done and done. I work quickly. Now, I’m just killing time.” 

“Well, maybe you can go kill time with Derek. I’m sure he’s missing you already. After all, he is _your_ boyfriend.” 

“Ahh, yes. But annoying you two is so much more fun.” Stiles spread his arms out across the back of the sofa. “I knew you two had a thing for each other.” 

“How perceptive of you,” Allison said. “It really took Sherlock to figure that one out. If we were any more obvious, I think Derek would have asked me to leave.” 

“Ahh, young love.” Stiles slapped his hands on his thighs and stood up. “Okay, fine. As fun as this is, I’ll let you two get back to it. Be sure to wear a condom. It’s a scary world out there.” 

He had too much frenetic energy coursing through his body, and the muted television on the wall showed a running countdown to the new year. 

Stiles circled the room once more before returning to Derek’s side. 

“Guess I just couldn’t stay away.” 

Shifting his champagne to his other hand, Derek wrapped the now-free one around Stiles’ waist and pulled him close. “Good. I want you near me.” Derek pressed a kiss into the skin behind Stiles’ ear. 

Excitement in the room began to build as they got closer to midnight. All Stiles heard was the pounding of his heart. Derek’s body was a warm line against his side. 

On the television, the clock began to flash, and the counting began. 

_10 . . ._

Lydia’s excited squeal cut the distance between them. 

_9 . . ._

The music died down and gave way to the chanting.

 _8 . . ._

Party-goers snatched up champagne glasses for the toast. 

_7 . . ._

The net of balloons above them shuddered as the butlers prepared to let it loose. 

_6 . . ._

Stiles practically began jumping in excitement.

 _5 . . ._

The hand around Stiles’ waist squeezed harder. 

_4 . . ._

Stiles licked his lips in anticipation. 

_3 . . ._

He glanced at Derek to see that his eyes were fever-bright.

 _2 . . ._

Stiles’ breath caught.

 _1 . . ._

Explosion. 

“Happy New Year!” 

Balloons and confetti rained down from the ceiling, and the room exploded in champagne and celebration. 

Derek pulled Stiles to him so that they were chest-to-chest and kissed him fiercely, deeply, like a drowning man who saw Stiles’ mouth as his only source of air. 

Dazed, Stiles hardly registered when Derek pulled away to kiss Lydia and Jackson in turn.

Derek gathered the three of them close. They were an island in a sea of people. “Happy New Year,” he said again. And it was. 

Someone passed Stiles a glass of champagne and with a laugh, he took it, toasted Derek, and drank deeply. 

“There’s glitter in your hair,” Derek said as he ran a hand through Stiles’ locks. 

“Well, there’s glitter on your face.” Stiles reached up and thumbed at a bit sticking to Derek’s cheekbone. That devastatingly handsome cheekbone. 

Derek caught his wrist and pressed a kiss to the inside of it. 

When the excitement of the new year had begun to die down, the party gradually returned to its former atmosphere. 

The Partners and Derek again drifted away from one another. 

Stiles caught up with Heather when he (finally) got to the buffet table. 

“So, I heard that Derek talked to you about doing an event for Paige.” 

“He did.” Heather’s lips turned down. “I was so sorry to hear about her accident. She only worked for me once, but she was such a sweet girl. Bright future. She used to date Derek, didn’t she?”

Stile nodded. “Before he and I met.” Like that made any difference. “We were all pretty devastated when we got the news. I’m still not—“ Stiles choked back a sob. 

Heather laid a hand on his arm. “I understand. She should be here. That’s why we’re going to make this show one of the biggest events in fashion this year.” 

“I wanted to talk to you about that. Do you remember a girl named Caitlin from your show in Paris? If it helps, she was the only Australian.” 

Heather thought for a moment. “Caitlin . . . Taylor. Brunette with a blunt hair cut at her chin?”

“That sounds right. Do you happen to have her phone number?”

Heather winced. “I don’t. But I can get you the name of her agency.” 

“That would be great. Thank you.” 

Their conversation moved into more personal matters that did not include business. Stiles had forgotten how nice it was to talk to someone from his hometown. Heather understood what it was like to grow up in a small town where even the mailman knew what grade you got on your science test. Most of all, she understood who Stiles had been before all of . . . this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kind comments! They certainly inspire me! xx


	23. Testing the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caitlin test shoots for _Halefire_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm behind again. *hangs head* Work is super hard right now, but I'm chugging along. I hope you're all still with me!

Tracking Caitlin down took little effort on Stiles’ part. After he made the call to her agency, she called him back within the hour. With _Halefire_ footing the bill, she readily agreed to come to LA for a few weeks—time enough to do the runway show as well as test shot for the magazine (at Stiles’ request). 

They put her up in Allison’s old room, which Stiles found odd, but it was vacant and clean, and Derek owned the house. 

“Everything to your liking?”

“Yeah,” Caitlin said with a wide smile. “This place is amazing. I can’t believe you get to live here full time.” 

Stiles ducked his head. “It’s pretty great. Do you want to see the rest?” 

“Sure. I think I’ve got everything put away.” 

She followed Stiles out the door and down the hall. Along the way, he introduced her to various butlers and Mansion staff. 

“Best part of living here? You can order room service at 3 a.m.”

Caitlin’s jaw dropped. “No way. Derek seriously pays for people to be on call 24/7?”

“Among other things.” 

Stiles showed her the usual places: the dining room, the library, the private theatre, the gym. He took her to see the pool. 

“Do you want to see my favourite part?”

“Of course,” Caitlin replied excitedly.

Ducking into a dark corner of the building, Stiles led her to the grotto. It had gained a reputation for being a sexy hotspot at Mansion parties, but in reality it was only a shallow part of the pool accessible by swimming through a short tunnel. 

“Wow,” Caitlin said. “It’s so . . . cozy and dark. Have you ever?”

Stiles raised his eyebrows. “Had sex in the grotto? No. And if Derek has, he never told me. I’m not sure there’s really enough room to make it work.” 

Caitlin surveyed the space with a critical eye. “I think you could make it work—even if it’s a tight squeeze.” 

“It’s all yours,” Stiles said with a laugh. 

 

Later that day, Stiles drove her over to the studio for the test shoot. 

“I don’t have to watch if it makes you uncomfortable.” 

“Stiles, don’t be ridiculous. I’m a model. I’m used to people seeing me naked.” 

“Of course you are.” 

Stiles led her into the building, where they met Lydia. 

“So, this is Caitlin,” she said, looking over the girl. “We met briefly in Paris, and I saw the portfolio shots your agency sent over, but you are much more exquisite in person. I can’t wait to see what you look like once we get you through hair and makeup.” Lydia turned to Stiles. “I’ll take her to get set up. How about you go find Derek, and we’ll meet you there?” 

“Sounds good.” 

Stiles gave Caitlin a quick hug before leaving her in Lydia’s more than capable hands. He wandered down the hall and into the main studio. On one side, they were in the middle of a shoot, and on the other, they were setting up for Paige. 

Stiles grabbed one of the assistants lurking near the perimeter of the set. 

“Have you seen Derek?”

“I think he’s in his office, Mr. Stilinski.”

“Thanks.” Stiles spun on his heel and went the opposite way he came. 

Derek’s office door was shut, so Stiles rapped his knuckles on the wood. For a moment, he worried that Derek was closed up with Jackson doing the kind of things Caitlin had imagined in the grotto earlier that day. 

“Who is it?” Derek called. 

Stiles opened the door just a crack. “It’s your loving boyfriend here to say hell. Can I come in?” 

“Yeah.” Derek’s voice sounded tired. 

Pushing the door open, Stiles found Derek at his desk behind several stacks of paperwork. 

“Stiles.” Derek sighed. “I’m just trying to get through this contract for Caitlin that my lawyers sent over. I’d like to have it read before her shoot so I can make a deal before she leaves for the day. I have a feeling this is going to be a good one.” 

Stiles plopped down in one of the cozy leather chairs in front of Derek’s desk. “Lydia’s got her in hair and make-up right now, so you have some time.” 

“And you’re here to make sure I use up every minute of it?” 

“I mean, I can go if you—“

“Stiles, I’m kidding. You’re more important to me than that.” 

Warmth blossomed in Stiles’ chest. He loved hearing those words. 

“So, how do you feel about going out for dinner tonight?” 

“Just us?” 

Derek’s face creased. “No, with everyone. I figure we can give Caitlin a proper Los Angeles welcome from _Halefire_.” 

“Oh.” Stiles tried to school the disappointment on his face and in his voice. “Of course. Sounds good.” They regularly took new models out with them as they became members of the _Halefire_ family. 

*

Stiles hardly recognized Caitlin when she stepped onto set. Half her hair had been braided back so it gave the illusion of being shaved. She wore matte red lipstick, and a smokey shadow framed her brown eyes, giving her an exotic look. 

“Wow, you look . . . “ Stiles realized he was staring and averted his eyes. 

“It’s okay, mate,” Caitlin said. “Considering I’m trying out for a centerfold magazine, it’s good if you want to stare.” 

“Okay, everyone,” Derek said. The tone of his voice commanded their attention. “Let’s get her on set and see what happens.” 

Immediately, Stiles recognized the couch from Paige’s set with Isaac. His heart ached. 

Derek positioned Caitlin length-wise on her hands and knees. The black bustier she wore accentuated the shadow between her breasts, and the lighting made their curve even more obvious. 

From his place behind Finstock, Stiles thought Caitlin looked hot enough for the magazine, but it wasn’t his call. 

*

Caitlin received the full Derek Hale Treatment when they went to dinner that night, right down to being photographed with the other Partners. 

“This is so exciting,” she said as they slid into the limo. “I’ve never done anything like this. Your life is so glamorous, Derek. I can see why people would want to date you.” 

“The rest of him is pretty top-notch, too.” Lydia placed a possessive hand high on Derek’s thigh. Her eyes dared Caitlin to step out of line again. 

“I didn’t mean anything by that.” 

The sound of a cork popping drew their attention to the bottle in Derek’s hands. “Let her enjoy it, Lyds.” He handed Caitlin a glass of champagne. “She’s our newest _Halefire_ model.” 

With a squeal, Caitlin took the glass. “Really? Derek, thank you so much! I don’t even know what to say.” 

Derek tapped his glass against hers. “Say yes, and I’ll have Jennifer send the paperwork over to your agency.” 

“Yes, of course!” Caitlin took a sip of champagne. “Don’t you drink, Stiles?”

“No,” he said before anyone else could chime in. Thankfully, the conversation shifted, and he got to avoid talking about his less-than-stellar moments. 

“So, where are we going for dinner?”

“That’s a surprise,” Derek said. He gave Caitlin a sly smile. 

Snatching a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, Stiles sat back and enjoyed the exchange. 

 

They pulled up to the restaurant and face a barrage of flashing lights and shouting voices. “Derek!” They called. “Is this your new Partner?” 

Derek paused for a few photos, some with Caitlin. “No, this is the newest edition to the magazine. Caitlin Taylor will be featured in the July issue of _Halefire_.” 

Several more questions fired at him, but Derek brushed the photographers away and led his entourage into the restaurant. 

*

Determined to show Caitlin a good time while she was in the States, Stiles took her to the usual tourist spots—the same places the Partners took him when he first arrived. He ended the drive with a visit to Madame Tussaud’s. 

“And this,” he said with a flourish of his hand, “is where I work.” 

Caitlin busted up laughing. “Stiles, you seriously work at a wax museum?” 

“Yeah, well, the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County wasn’t hiring. Come on, I’ll show you the best part.” 

He led Caitlin past Kelly—his coworker hardly spared him a greeting—and into the museum proper. Caitlin’s attention was caught several times by various figures, and Stiles had to tug her away. 

“We’ll come back to Elvis, I promise.” 

They came to a stop in front of wax Derek, and Caitlin shrieked with glee. “It looks just like him!” She circled the statue, eyeing the group carefully. “And the girls look beautiful! How come there’s no wax figure of you?”

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “These were made before I met Derek.” 

“Well, Erica and Allison are gone. Won’t they at least get rid of these ones?”

“I haven’t really thought to ask. Honestly, I don’t really care that much. They’re just wax figures, you know?”

“I guess.” Caitlin fingered Allison’s cheekbone. “Well, I, for one, think you’d look great in wax.” 

“A wax figure _of_ me, right? Not like Jared Padalecki in House of Wax? Because that would be freaking creepy—and a terrible way to die.” 

“Of course no. Just a little wax Stiles to put next to the wax Derek. Actually . . . stand next to him so I can get a picture.” 

Stiles did. 

Without taking a picture, Caitlin lowered her phone. “Come on, get closer. Kiss his cheek or something. He won’t bite.” 

Rolling his eyes, Stiles did. Let Caitlin have her fun. He did this every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank YOU, dear reader, for taking the time to give my fic a chance. Your kudos and comments are love. 
> 
> xx


	24. In Loving Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paige's memorial fashion show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot is really going to pick up from here on out. (And the closer I get to the end, I really wonder if I can wrap this up in 30 chapters, but that's the plan!) 
> 
> You guys are the best. Seriously. Thank you so much for reading. Only five more chapters to go!

The following week was spent preparing for Paige’s memorial/charity fashion show. The proceeds would go to her family and start a college fund for her younger sister, Colby. 

They had several models staying at the Mansion with them; with all the hustle and bustle, it felt like it had before Allison (and even Erica) left. Other than Caitlin, the only one Stiles knew was Isaac. They were also housing Heather, as a thank-you for being so open to co-hosting this event with Derek and _Halefire_. 

A few days before the show, all the models had to be at the venue for costume fittings and last-minute preparations for the show. Since everyone else would be there—Derek and Lydia were coordinating and Jackson was walking—Stiles tagged along. Not much was available for him to do, other than sit and watch, but it was betting than sitting home alone. 

Stiles enjoyed sitting amongst the chaos and flurry of costume fitters, hair and makeup artists, and countless assistants. One model walked by half-dressed in a pair of panties and nothing else while another was in full makeup and a hoodie and jeans. Something about the energy in the room made Stiles feel like he was part of something cosmic. 

The runway for this show differed greatly from the one Stiles saw in Paris. Two models would be walking simultaneously from different ends along a runway shaped like a giant heart. They would begin together and the top “dip,” part along each curve, and join again at the point, which was directed towards the audience. One model would be wearing black, the other white. When they met at the point of the heart, they would embrace—an uncharacteristic move for the runway—and continue in the direction they had been going. From the look of the rehearsal, the actual show was set to be quite an event. 

“What do you think?” a voice from behind Stiles asked, and he jumped in surprise. 

It was only Derek. 

“It looks good. Granted, I don’t really know what I’m looking at or talking about, so there’s that.”

“How about Caitlin? She looks good up there.” 

Stiles followed Derek’s line of sight to the stage where Caitlin was walking. Since it was just a rehearsal, she wore black spandex pants that accentuated her long legs and a cut-off t-shirt that bared her toned midriff. It was a far cry from the skimpy outfits she would be wearing during the show. 

“She does. Thank you for agreeing to put her in the magazine, by the way. I know you didn’t do that just for me, but I appreciate you giving her a shot. You’re not going to regret this.” 

“No, I don’t believe I will.” 

They fell silent as they watched Caitlin embrace the model with whom she was sharing the runway and finish her walk. 

Derek turned his hazel eyes on Stiles again. “I’m thinking about asking Caitlin to be Partner. How would you feel about that?” 

Stiles felt like he’d just been punched in the stomach. It must have shown on his face because Derek sighed and said his name. 

“Please don’t tell me you never thought I’d get new Partners. Besides, you like Caitlin. You two get along great. I know you didn’t like Isaac at all, but this would be different. Plus, you and Caitlin would be able to hang out all the time. The only difference is that Caitlin would be my girlfriend, too.” 

“What do you want me to say?” Stiles managed to choke out.

Reaching out, Derek cupped his shoulder. “I want you to talk to me. That’s why I’m bringing this up. You’re here; you’re my Parter. I want you to be part of this decision. I shouldn’t have just moved Isaac into the Mansion without consulting you.” 

Stiles saw Caitlin heading towards them, and he quickly schooled his features. “There she is.” 

The way Derek’s face lit up when he saw her told Stiles all he needed to know. “You looked great up there.” 

Caitlin tossed her head like a horse shaking its mane. “It’s just a rehearsal. But thanks. I’m really looking forward to this. Plus, it’s my first show in the States.” 

All the saliva in Stiles’ mouth dried up and he ran out of things to say. Suddenly, he was sorry for fighting so hard for her. 

“You’ll be fantastic,” Derek said. “You already look great.” 

“I just don’t want to embarrass you or Heather.” 

“I’ve gotta go find Lydia,” Stiles said. He walked away from Derek and Heather as quickly as he could without it seeming too obvious. 

*

“That’s Derek. That’s what he does.” Lydia rolled her eyes and pursed her lips in a move that Stiles had see on many occasions. 

They were holed up in one of the unused dressing rooms to keep away from prying ears. Most of the business had wrapped up for the day, and Stiles needed some advice before he saw Derek again. 

“So you’re fine with him asking Caitlin to move into the Mansion?”

“I was fine with you. And Jackson and Allison. And Isaac. And Paige.” Her gaze softened. “It’s not up to me. It’s not up to us, Stiles. I wasn’t Derek’s first Partner, and I probably won’t be the last. All we can do is love Derek and support his decisions.” 

“But doesn’t it bother you?”

“Do you think I’d still be here if it did?”

Stiles deflated. “None of this makes sense to me. I’ve been trying so hard to understand, but I . . . “ He sighed. “Tell me your story.” Sinking down into a folding chair, he gave Lydia an imploring look. 

Lydia’s lip curled. “Only if you’re sure you want to hear it.” 

Stiles nodded. “Please.” 

“Well, I told you Derek had seven Partners when I moved in: Oliver, Danielle, Jared, William, Tara, and Noah. His number one Partner at the time was Kate—she hated me.” 

“Because she felt threatened?”

“No, because Kate is a bitch.” Lydia paused to collect her thoughts. “So I told you already that Derek and I dated for a few months before I moved in. I can’t remember who came and went when—some were here more than once, but by my count, before you got here, Derek dated Sean, Sydney, Lucas, Josh, Harley, Jessica, Kara, Breanne, Billy, and Emily. They were in and out. Some stayed for a few months, some for a few years. Kate had been the first Partner to move in, which is how she ended up in Derek’s bedroom. She always liked to separate herself from the rest of us.” 

“How long was she here?”

“I’m getting to that. Kate and I lived in the Mansion together for a year. During that time, the other six Partners who had been here left, one by one. If you ask me, Kate was a big reason for that. Right before she moved out, it was the two of us, Paige, and Oliver—you would have liked him, but that’s neither here nor there. Kate was . . . “ Lydia sighed. “If you tell Derek I told you this, I will kick you out of the Mansion myself.” 

Stiles mimed licking his lips. 

“Those rules Allison gave you when you moved in? Kate is the reason for every single one. I won’t go into the specifics, but we came up with those rules together to keep future Partners for over-stepping their bounds, we’ll say. Kate was trying to claim that they were common law married—after she cheated on him. Too bad for her, common law marriage is a myth in California. There’s nothing on the books. But she threatened to go to the tabloids, so Derek paid her off. 

“After she was gone, he asked me to move into his room and become the number one Partner. Needless to say, I’ve been through and have seen a lot in my time with Derek. It’s not that I don’t care if he invites Caitlin into the Mansion, but I’m more concerned about him bringing in another gold-digging whore.” 

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “I don’t strike you—“

“Stiles, I can hardly get you to let me buy you lunch. The last thing I’m worried about is you taking Derek to the cleaners.” 

“What about Erica?” 

Lydia shrugged. “Derek loved—loves—her. I can’t protect him from himself.” 

*

Sitting next to Derek, Lydia, and Heather at the fashion show made Stiles feel like a VIP. He clapped harder every time someone he knew came down the runway and tried to ignore the way Derek’s expression brightened when Caitlin came towards them. 

For the finale, each of the models wore shades of purple—Paige’s favorite color. The screen along the back of the stage showed a slideshow while Eric Clapton’s “Tears in Heaven” played over the PA system. 

By the time the models left the runway, Stiles, along with most of the audience, was wiping away tears. 

Jackson walked back out onto the stage holding a microphone. “Thank you, everyone, for coming. I would like to introduce you to the two people who made tonight possible. Fashion designer Heather Grant and _Halfire_ CEO, my boyfriend, Derek Hale.” 

Stiles clapped and whistled as Derek and Heather took the stage. 

“Thank you so much, everyone,” Heather began. “I can’t thank you and Derek and _Halefire_ enough for coming together to honor Paige Krasikeva.” She passed the microphone to Derek. 

“Paige was a beautiful, talented young woman whose loss is felt by everyone in this room. It is a testament to how much she touch each of us that all of you are here today. Also here are Paige’s parents and her younger sister, Colby. Would you guys stand up for me, please?” 

A few seats away from Stiles, to the sound of roaring applause, Paige’s family stood up.

“Mr. and Mrs. Krasikeva, I would like to let you know that tonight we’ve raised $100,000 for your family.” The applause continued, and Derek raised his hand to quiet the audience. “To that, on behalf of _Halefire_ , I would like to add another $100,000.” 

Paige’s mother burst into tears, and it made Stiles want to cry, too. 

“We have one more surprise for all of you.” 

Derek, Heather, and Jackson stepped to one side of the stage. The screen behind them flickered to life again. It revealed a _Halfire_ cover featuring Paige with the headline, “A Tribute to Our Angel.” 

“This is the March edition of _Halefire_ , which will be on newsstands in about two weeks. It’s a tribute to Paige in which you will find exclusive photos of her last runway show in Paris.” 

Derek was nothing, if not generous. How could Stiles judge a man like him for wanting to share all that love with as many people as possible?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small note: all the names Lydia gives Stiles are very minor Teen Wolf characters I pulled off the wiki. None of them mean anything, they probably won't be mentioned again, and they aren't worth listing in the character list. In case you were wondering. ;) 
> 
> Thanks (again) so much for reading!!!


	25. Decisive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any mistakes are mine.

Derek’s hand wrapped around Stiles’ neck to tip his head back. He snapped his hips and made Stiles moan. 

“Close,” Stiles choked out. 

With gentle fingers, Derek stroked the line of Stiles’ cheek, his jaw. He reached down and took ahold of Stiles’ cock. His touch was featherlight, though, and it didn’t give Stiles enough friction. 

“Babe,” Stiles groaned. He lifted a hand from the bed, but Derek caught it and gently twisted it behind Stiles’ back. 

With only one hand to hold himself up, Stiles upper body slid to the bed. All the while, Derek kept up his easy, steady pace. 

“Are you trying to kill me?” Stiles asked. 

“Nah.” Derek set his teeth against Stiles’ shoulder. “Just break you a little.” 

 

Afterwards, they lay together in a sated, sweaty pile on Derek’s bed. 

“What are you thinking about?” Stiles drew random circles on Derek’s skin. 

“Not much. You?”

Stiles pillowed his head on Derek’s chest. “Just thinking.” 

Derek carded his hand through Stiles’ hair. “About what?” 

“Stuff.” Stiles shrugged. “Us.” 

The expression on Derek’s face pinched tighter. 

“I’m just not . . . I don’t know how I feel about Caitlin moving in . . . yet.” 

Derek closed his eyes for a few breaths. “Is this always going to be a problem? Every time I want to bring a new Partner to the Mansion, are you going to put up a fight?”

Stiles was quiet, but his silence spoke volumes.

*

Later that day, he was summoned back to Derek’s bedroom. This time, Lydia and Jackson were there. Instantly, Stiles knew he was about to get bad news. 

“Stiles,” Derek began. He looked like the name took all of his energy to spit out. “We’ve done some talking—Lydia, Jackson, and I—“

“Primarily you and Jackson,” Lydia said. “Don’t lump me in this one.” 

Stiles had never seen Lydia disagree with Derek before. He shifted in his seat nervously. 

“My point is that we have to do what’s best for everyone involved. You would agree with that, right?”

Stiles licked his dry lips. “of course.” 

“And we want the best for you,” Derek continued. 

Although Stiles believed him, that didn’t stop his heart from thumping wildly in his chest. “Okay.” 

“That said, I think it would be best if you moved out of the Mansion.” 

Stiles had been expecting to hear that Caitlin was moving in, end of discussion. He never could have prepared himself for his. 

His muscles froze like he’d been doused with a bucket of ice water. He was too numb even to cry. It took him several tries to make himself swallow so his throat was moist enough to speak. 

The rules stated that he or Derek could terminate their relationship at any time—because, why would they not—but after seeing what happened with Erica and even Isaac, Stiles never would have imagined that _he_ would be the one Derek kicked out. 

“Okay.” His voice sounded numb and hollow. 

Jackson wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Lydia looked like she wanted to murder someone with a butter knife. Derek just looked sad, resigned, like this hadn’t been his decision. 

Stiles wanted to reach out and shake him. Tell him that whoever orchestrated this decision was a fool. That Derek was everything to Stiles and Stiles would be everything for him. That Stiles loved him more than he’d ever loved another person. 

“Okay,” Stiles said again. 

Later, he didn’t remember how he got from Derek’s room to his own—the room that would soon be vacant, prepared for another Partner. Maybe even Caitlin. 

Stiles let out a sob. Unknowingly, he’d talked himself out of  
his own relationship.

Unsure where to start, Stiles began pulling open drawers. He stared at the dresser, his borrowed dresser, Derek’s dresser, before sliding to the floor as the tears began to fall. He drew in deep, hitching breaths, struggling to compose himself. 

Finally, he fumbled for his phone and dialed a familiar number. 

“Scotty?”

*

Stiles packed only what he’d brought with him in the beginning—clothes, toiletries, a few personal effects, and of course, his pillow. He left behind the clothes and costumes he’d been gifted. 

Lastly, he pulled out from under his bed a small lockbox. Inside was all the allowance money Derek had ever given him. Stiles left it on top of the bed. 

He took the long route through the back of the house to avoid running in to any of the others. For as much as it hurt to leave without saying goodbye, facing Derek one more time had the potential to destroy Stiles. As it was, he was barely holding himself together. 

The butler managing the garage either hadn’t been told Stiles was moving out or he kept one Hell of a poker face because he hardly uttered more than a greeting as he handed Stiles his keys. 

Blinking back tears, Stiles pressed the accelerator and put the Hale Mansion in his rearview mirror. 

*

About an hour outside of Los Angeles, Stiles pulled off Interstate 5 for gas, and he made a quick call to Scott. He ignored the two missed calls from Derek and one from Lydia. He deleted the voicemails without listening to any of them. 

“You okay?” Scott asked as he answered the phone. 

Stiles drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “Yes and no. Physically, I’m okay. Emotionally, I’m a wreck.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. 

“Where are you?”

Stiles told him. “I’m planning to drive straight through unless I get too tired, so I imagine I’ll be home around dawn.” He’d given up his apartment months ago, not that he would have wanted to idle in Derek’s neighborhood much longer, anyway. 

“Do you want me to come meet you?”

While he appreciated the thought and his best friend always having his back, Stiles declined the offer. “I just want to be home.” He left unsaid all the things he knew Scott would pick up on. Stiles wanted to forget Derek and his Partners and his rich, poly lifestyle. Basically, Stiles wanted to forget about everything from the last six months. “I haven’t called my dad, yet. Is it okay if I stay with you long enough to take a nap and collect my head?” 

“Of course.” Scott’s reply was instant and emphatic. “You’re my bro. You don’t even have to ask. Just show up. No matter what.” 

The words nearly brought tears of relief to Stiles’ eyes. “That means a lot, Scott.” His voice broke on his friend’s name. 

They finished their conversation. 

Stiles wiped his nose and climbed back into the Jeep. As he pulled onto the highway, his mind churned with possibilities for where he went wrong with Derek. 

He had made so many sacrifices. 

He had accepted that Derek dated other people, and he even accepted that for some reason unbeknownst to him, Derek still wanted Erica in his life. 

Stiles supported Derek through all of it, so why was he the one driving home to Beacon Hills? At least Lydia had been supporting him in front of Derek. She had called him again without leaving a voicemail, but Stiles ignored that, too. If he was going to talk to anyone again, it would be her (Jackson could take a long walk off a short pier for all Stiles cared), but Stiles wouldn’t be ready for that conversation for quite a while. Just the thought of talking to anyone from Derek’s circle or his life was enough to bring tears to Stiles’ eyes again. 

“Just forget it,” Stiles told himself. “Let it go.” 

He turned on the radio and scrolled through the stations until he found one playing classic rock so he could belt out “Carry On Wayward Son” at the top of his lungs. He felt better after that. 

Several times, he stopped for gas, coffee, and a bathroom break. Halfway home, he downed three double cheeseburgers from McDonalds and then pulled into a rest-stop to sleep for a couple hours. 

It was just past 7:30, the sun hardly peeking over the trees, when Stiles pulled into the parking lot of Scott’s apartment complex. Weary, he shouldered his bag and climbed two flights of stairs. 

A rumpled, sleepy Scott answered the door. He embraced Stiles and dragged him into the apartment. Most importantly, he didn’t ask any questions. 

“I’ve got to work in a couple hours, but you’re welcome to anything—crash, eat, shower, whatever.”

“Crashing sounds good.” Stiles gave Scott a tired smile. “I’m just glad to be home. I slept like two hours in the Jeep. Think I put a permanent cramp in my neck.” He put his palm on his chin and cracked his neck one way and then the other. 

Scott winced. “I hate it when you do that.” 

Stiles dropped onto the couch and pulled Scott’s quilt over himself. “Sleep now. Complain later.” 

Stiles closed his eyes as he listened to the sounds of Scott getting ready for work. He was out before the apartment door opened and closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I didn't want to say anything at the beginning of the chapter because I didn't want to spoil it. 
> 
> I _promise_ this fic has a happy Sterek ending, so you'll just have to bear with me to see how we get there. 
> 
> And I will (at some point) reply to all the lovely lovely comments; I've just been using my time to write feverishly, so I hope that's okay.
> 
> You guys are the best! xx


	26. Mending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles settles back into Beacon Hills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off: I am completely _blown away_ by the response I got on the previous chapter. I had described writing it to my beta as "jumping out of an airplane without a parachute." Originally, Stiles was going to leave on his own, but I felt like it just made more sense for Derek to ask him to leave. And now, my neatly wrapped ending is just a bit different, so I don't know if I can keep this to 30 chapters. (Hope you guys don't mind if it goes over! :D) 
> 
> Once this is done, I'll fill you in on all the could'ves and should'ves and maybe even write the contents of those emails. ;) (I'm definitely feeling a "bonus scenes" companion piece.) 
> 
> But thank you guys again--I never expected to have such a response on the last chapter and so much POSITIVITY to boot! You guys are the BEST!

The Sheriff took the news of his son being home much better than expected. While Stiles anticipated at least one “I told you so,” his father was more concerned with Stiles’ well-being and welcomed him back with open arms. 

Stiles’ bedroom hadn’t changed much over the years: creaky old bed, his desk along one wall, and posters of bands he hadn’t listened to in years. Still, it felt comforting to be back under his father’s roof after all he’d been through. 

Blanche, on the other hand, was more than a little upset to hear that Stiles had skipped town without so much as a goodbye. 

“Now what am I supposed to do? You were one of my best attractions, Stiles.” 

“I’m really sorry. I had a—family emergency. I had to come back to Beacon Hills.” He drew in a breath. “I take it you wouldn’t be willing to give me a reference?”

The other line was silent for so long that Stiles thought she’d hung up. 

“Stiles, the fact that you left me without a notice does not supersede the fact that you were always on time for work and did everything I asked. I get it: this is Hollywood, and people come and go. But you are one I’m honestly sorry to lose. You’re a good kid.” 

“Thanks,” Stiles said, despite the awkward feeling her words gave him. He hung up the phone feeling more melancholy than he had before. While the job at Madame Tussaud’s hadn’t been ideal, it was the one part of his time with Derek that had been entirely _his_.

*

Gradually, Stiles relaxed back in to life in Beacon Hills. People and events moved slower here, and Stiles was surprised to find how easy he fit in after being gone for so many years. 

At the grocery store, he ran in to a friend. Liam had been a couple of years behind Stiles and Scott in school, but when they were together, the three of them were thick as thieves. 

“How are you?” Stiles asked. 

Liam looked good. He’d grown half a foot and could look Stiles in the eye. “I teach third grade at Beacon Hills Elementary. I’m in the middle of my second year.” 

“Good for you, man. THat’s awesome.” 

Liam smiled. The same gap-toothed smile that Stiles remembered. “The kids are great. They make every day worth it. What about you? What are you up to? I’m surprised to see you back in Beacon Hills.” 

For the first time, Stiles realized he had no idea how to explain what he’d been up to for half a year, so he settled for vague and thanked every deity he could think of that Liam didn’t follow trashy celebrity news. 

“Couldn’t really find a job in LA, so I decided to come home.” 

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m definitely glad to see you.” Liam gave him a quick hug. “I’ve got to get going, but give me a call sometime.” 

“I will,” Stiles replied honestly. “Good to see you, too.” 

At the checkout counter, Stiles tried to keep his eyes from straying to the tabloids, but he couldn’t help it, especially when he saw his name, along with a thumbnail of Paige’s _Halefire_ cover. Trying to look nonchalant, Stiles slipped a copy of each of the three magazines beneath the produce in his basket and set the whole thing on the conveyer belt. 

The cashier hardly glanced at the magazines as she rang them up, and Stiles gave her a wide smile in return.

*

In the privacy and relative safety of his own bedroom, Stiles spread out the three magazines across his bed. One had been a complete waste because it didn’t say anything about Stiles, and he wasn’t interested in reading about Brangelina’s latest drama. 

He decided to start with the one about Paige’s memorial issue of _Halefire_. Unfortunately, it didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know. It reproduced a few images from _Halefire_ and gave a recap of Heather’s runway show. 

Stiles tossed the magazine down. He’d been there. He didn’t need to read someone’s second-hand account. 

The remaining magazine promised to be an interesting and perhaps inciting read. 

There was a picture of him and Derek on the cover with a jagged line between them and the caption “Splitzville for Sterek?”

Stiles would never admit it, but he had been looking forward to this. 

_A source close to the couple says that Stiles has moved out of the Mansion._

_“Derek’s pretty upset about the breakup. He never expected Stiles would leave so soon. They seemed like such a happy couple.”_

Stiles snorted. “At least they got that lie in there.” 

_Derek was seen with his remaining Partners, Lydia and Jackson, at the premiere of_ Silk. 

Stiles skimmed the rest of the article as it deteriorated into commentary about what the trio had been wearing. Near the bottom, there was one line that contained Caitlin’s name, but no indication that she had moved into the Mansion or that Derek had even asked. 

Unsure how he felt about that, Stiles tossed the magazine down with a sigh. It had only been two weeks, and if he really wanted details, he should call Lydia, but he couldn’t make himself do it. Just the thought of talking to someone—anyone from Los Angeles—made Stiles want to throw up. 

*

Stiles’ mood soured as the stores began to fill with red hearts and white teddy bears. 

“I think it’s time you started looking for a job, kiddo,” the Sheriff said. “You can’t mope around the house all day. I could probably get you in at the station working the reception desk or something.” 

When he was a kid, Stiles wanted nothing more than to work as a deputy alongside his old man. Now, he just wanted to crawl under the covers for the next ten years. 

“I’ve been looking at some stuff online,” Stiles said vaguely. 

John gave him a hard look. “You and I both know you’ve been sitting around in your underwear playing that _World of Dungeons and Dragons_ or whatever, but you’re not 15 anymore. I’m giving you one more week, and if you don’t have a job—I don’t care if you’re working at Walmart or Burger King—I will either find a job for you, or I’ll ask you to move out. And we both know neither of us likes those options.” 

Stiles knew his dad was right. 

So, after John and Melissa left for work, Stiles took a shower (he’d begun to smell like spoiled milk, he had to admit) and hit the pavement. He found a job before the day was out, and while it wasn’t ideal (or even appealing), it would tide Stiles over for now, get his dad off his back, and give him something to focus on that wasn’t his tragic love life.” 

 

“Thank you for choosing Chuck’s Chicken, may I take your oder?” 

Okay, so he probably could have done better than working the drive-thru of a fast food restaurant while wearing a hat with a big yellow chicken on top, but it sure beat the hell out of handing out carts at Walmart. 

The only really bad part was seeing people hold hands over a shared milkshake. (Who goes to a fast food restaurant on Valentine’s Day in the first place?) Of course, it made him think of Derek. Then, he wondered what they would be doing at the Mansion. 

He consciously turned his attention to scrubbing the soda dispenser and making sure every sticky bit of syrup was cleaned out of the cracks. 

 

He returned home to an empty house. His parents were working the night shift to give younger couples an opportunity to spend the evening with one another. Scott was somewhere with Allison. She’d arrived in town the day before, but Stiles declined the offer to meet them for lunch; he still wasn’t ready to see one of Derek’s ex-Partners, even if Allison had left long before him. 

Stiles took a shower to wash the smell of fried chick off and sat down on the couch with his favorite Valentine’s Day tradition: cheesy slasher movies. This used to be his yearly tradition with Scott until they both moved away for college. 

He’d just put on the first one, _Texas Chainsaw Massacre_ , when the doorbell rang. 

Who the hell would be at his door at 10:00 at night? 

Grabbing his trusty baseball bat from its place in the hall closet, Stiles peeked out the window and deflated when he saw who it was. He set the bat down and opened the door. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Armed with two large pizzas, Scott stepped into the house. Behind him, Allison carried two bottles of Coke. She offered a tight smile. 

“Hey, Stiles.” 

“Don’t you guys have, like, special Valentine’s Day plans, or something? Giving each other googlie eyes over the creme brulé?” 

Scott set the pizzas on the coffee table. “Not when you’re back in town. I told Allison about our tradition, and she totally wanted in on it.” He gave Stiles an honest look. “I hope that’s okay.” 

Stiles was touched by the thought that Scott and Allison would give up their Valentine’s Day for him. He could hardly complain about seeing Allison now. 

“Of course.” 

Once Allison had been relieved of her burden, Stiles gave her a tight hug. He really was glad to see her, in spite of everything. 

She told him about Reno, and they bonded over being home with their families. 

“You always were my favorite,” Stiles said. 

They stuffed themselves with pizza until they could hardly move. 

Allison waited until Stiles had begun to slip into a food coma before she struck. “So why did you finally decide to leave?”

Confused, Stiles turned away from Leatherface. “What do you mean? He asked me to leave, so I did.” 

The look on Allison’s face told him that like the true friend he was, Scott had said nothing. 

“You had no idea Derek dumped me.” 

Allison’s eyebrows pinched together. “Well, Scott told me you had moved home, but that was it.” 

Scott shrugged. “Bro code.” 

Glancing over the big picture, Stiles filled Allison in. 

“And you didn’t listen to the voicemails?”

“I couldn’t. I mean, maybe now, I _could_ , but they’re gone.” 

“I wouldn’t mind listening to them,” Scott mumbled. 

“They’re gone,” Stiles said again, more forcefully. “They’re gone, Derek’s gone, I’m gone, and it’s all over.” 

“Okay,” Scott said, springing up. “We’re supposed to be having a nice Valentine’s Day horror marathon. Stiles, do you have any ice cream?”

“Yeah, but it’s just that sugar-free Sweet Freedom crap so my dad won’t eat too much of it.”

Ten minutes later, they were storming the frozen aisle of the grocery story. Scott really was the best friend Stiles ever made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many of you thought it was Derek at Stiles' door? XD
> 
> The next chapter should be out some time this weekend.
> 
> We've hit 50k! This is officially a novel! Woo! (I'm on Tumblr @moitmiller if you want to come play!)
> 
> Feedback is love. xx


	27. Period of Adjustment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' circumstances improve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really very pleased with how this chapter turned out, so I hope you guys like it, too.
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day! I love you all!!

Stiles’ job at Chuck’s Chicken led him to an opportunity to work as a substitute teacher at the elementary school. His manager’s sister had told him the district was in need of more subs, and after a short class and getting fingerprinted, Stiles was hired. 

On his first day, Stiles felt like he was starting school, rather than teaching it. The teacher’s aide for the third grade class gave him a quick run-down. 

“Just follow the lesson plan. I’ll be there the whole time, so if you get stuck, let me know.” 

Stiles nodded. He hoped eight year olds couldn’t smell fear. Someone said his name, and Stiles turned around. 

Liam stood there in his shirt and tie. For Stiles, it was a relief to see a familiar face.

“What are you doing here?” 

Stiles adjusted his own tie with a nervous hand. He’d never been good at knotting the damn things. “I’m substituting for Mrs. Dawson.” 

Liam’s face lit up with interest. “Well, I’m right next door. Let me know if you need anything.” 

 

Stiles first day went better than he anticipated. Only two of the kids fought, and that was on the playground where one of the other teachers could handle the discipline. 

At three o’clock, Stiles released his class; they headed down the hall to their waiting parents and school busses under the watchful eye of teachers with dismissal duty. 

Because he was just a sub, Stiles didn’t have to deal with that or lunch duty. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. 

Liam was waiting outside the room. “How was your first day?”

“Not bad. Teaching multiplication tables is a lot more fun than running the drive-thru at Chuck’s Chicken.” 

“I bet.” Liam adjusted the bag on his shoulder. “So, would you like to go get a drink? I know it’s only Tuesday, but . . . “

“Sure,” Stiles said automatically. “I’ve spent too much time working and sitting alone at my dad’s house.” 

 

They went to a local bar that only had a few patrons so late early in the evening. By midnight, it would be packed with college kids. 

“So what really brought you back to Beacon Hills? Last time we talked, you were hitting the big city to make a name for yourself. I take it that didn’t pan out.” 

Stiles slid his beer bottle back and forth between his hands. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” 

“Try me.” 

“I’ve spent the last six months living with Derek Hale in his mansion.” 

Liam stared at him for a moment. “Who ended it?” 

“He did.” Stiles took a swig of his beer. “So here I am.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. I’m making my peace with it. It wasn’t going to last, anyway. When I moved in, he was dating four other people at the same time. He’s probably got two or three new Partners already.” His beer bottle made a thunking noise as he set it back down. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bore you with my love life. What have you been up to?”

“Besides teaching? I coach little league baseball.” 

“No you do not. That’s so cute!” Stiles composed himself. “That wasn’t very manly of me. Sorry, I like kids. In not at all a creepy way.” He chugged half his beer. 

“It’s fine,” Liam said. “Usually, I tell a guy I work with kids, and he backpedals pretty quickly.” 

“Oh. Liam, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea, but this isn’t—I’m not—I’m not really over Derek.” 

Disappointment showed on Liam’s face, but he quickly masked it. “I didn’t mean anything by that.” He forced a smile. “I’m gonna get another beer. Can I get you one?”

“Sure.” Stiles finished his and handed the empty bottle to Liam. As he watched his friend walk to the bar, Stiles lamented that he couldn’t have met someone like Liam instead of Derek. 

They stayed at the bar for a few more beers. Finally, Stiles knew he needed to head home and eat some dinner before he reached the point where he couldn’t drive. 

He and Liam ambled out to the parking lot. The alcohol in Stiles’ system was making him feel pleasantly warm and more relaxed than he had been in months. 

“I’m really glad you’re home.” Liam leaned against the side of the Jeep. 

Stiles spun his key ring on one finger. “Me too. I missed this. We should hang out again.” 

“Definitely.” 

Liam took a step forward, and before Stiles could react, they were kissing. His dick stood up and took notice right away, but his mind needed a few moments to catch up with the proceedings. 

Stiles pulled away and stepped backwards. “Liam—“ he said at the same time his friend said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Regret flooded Stiles’ body. He didn’t want to do this to Liam. Here was a great guy with a stable job, his shit together, and no baggage; and Stiles couldn’t see a future with him because he was still hung up on a billionaire playboy. 

“Liam.” Stiles had drunk too much to be having this conversation in a parking lot. “I don’t want this to affect our friendship, and I mean that, okay?”

“Sure. Of course.” Liam said a quick goodbye and headed for his own car. 

Watching him go, Stiles felt even worse.

 

When Stiles told Scott about it, Scott tried to get him to see reason. “What could one date hurt?”

“I just broke up with Derek. I’m not ready for a new relationship yet. Plus, Liam is my friend. What happens if we break up and it all goes sour?”

“One date doesn’t have to turn into a relationship.” 

Stiles loved everything about Liam, except how predictable and straight-laced he was. Dating him would be nothing like dating Derek. It would be calm, easy. Boring. 

*

Stiles sighed in frustration and threw his wrench to the garage floor. He was going to need a new battery terminal end. The old one had rusted through and all-but disintegrated in Stiles’ hands. 

His parents were at work, and he didn’t want to bother Scott, so Stiles pulled his old bicycle out from behind some other junk in the garage. The tires needed air, but otherwise it was in decent shape. At the very least, it would get him to the auto parts store and back. 

The terminal only costed him about five dollars. Stiles put it into his pocket and headed back home. 

The ride was nice in the spring air. Instead of taking the usual route through town, Stiles took an old shortcut through an alley. He didn’t see the car, and it certainly didn’t see him until it was almost too late. 

They both swerved. 

The car skidded to a screeching stop. Stiles hit a fire hydrant and was thrown over the handlebars. 

He came to as the paramedics were rushing towards him. They carted him away despite his insistence that he was fine. 

Deputy Parrish told him to shut up and let the EMTs do their job. At least his father wasn’t the responding officer, but he showed up at the hospital. 

“Dad, I’m fine,” Stiles said for what seemed like the hundredth time. “They’re just keeping me overnight for observation.” 

“What the hell were you doing riding your bicycle, anyway?” 

“I needed a part for my Jeep.” 

“Couldn’t you have called Scott?” 

“I didn’t want to bother him. Dad, I’m okay. It’s just a concussion and some road rash.” 

The Sheriff sighed. “I was scared out of my mind when I heard over the radio that you’d been in a car accident. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” 

Stiles looked down at his lap. 

“I’ve gotta get back to the Station. Either Melissa or I will be here to pick you up in the morning.” 

Stiles waved his dad away. Nothing to do now but watch TV. They wouldn’t even let him have his cell phone. The battery terminal, at least, had still been in his pocket after the accident, so he’d be able to fix his Jeep when he got home. If his dad even let him drive it. 

He dozed off and on. It was after dark when he woke up and thought he saw Derek sitting in the chair next to his bed. 

“Fuck this dream.” Stiles said, closing his eyes. 

“Stiles,” Derek said. “You’re not dreaming.” 

Opening his eyes, Stiles fixed him with a hard stare. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He had so many other questions—How did you know I was here? Aren’t visiting hours over, anyway? Please, can’t this be a dream?—but that one seemed to sum it up best. 

“Allison called me.” 

Stiles clenched his teeth. Of course she did. Scott heard from their parents that Stiles was in the hospital—for like 15 freaking hours—he told Allison, Allison called Derek, and Derek—“So you flew your private jet all the way up here to charm the front desk nurses and see for yourself that I’m not dead yet? Well, you’re wasting your time because I don’t have anything to say to you.” 

Stiles rolled over so he didn’t have to look at Derek’s stupid beautiful face anymore.

“Okay,” Derek said softly. “You don’t have to talk, but I’m going to. I don’t blame you for being mad at me. I’d hate me, too, if I were you. When Allison called me, all I could think was how I’d feel if you died before I got a chance to talk to you. I had to see you for myself to know you’re okay. My parents died in a car accident, and I couldn’t live with myself if the same thing happened to you. You deserve more from me than what happened. I owe you an explanation. 

“I know it may not seem like it, but I still care for you, Stiles. I didn’t ask you to leave to hurt you. I thought that if I was the one to end things, it would keep you from getting hurt worse than if you stayed any longer. Jackson agreed with me, and Lydia told me I was being an idiot. I knew how bad I hurt you when you left without saying goodbye. Stiles, you have to know that was not my intention. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know that.

“I made a mistake, Stiles. Letting you go was a mistake. Jackson left. I don’t know if you read it or someone told you, but he moved out.” Derek paused. “None of this is coming out right. I thought I had it squared away on the plane. I also hoped it wouldn’t be just me talking. 

“You should know that when I asked you to be my Partner, you didn’t replace anyone. I haven’t had five Partners since Kate moved out. I know that probably doesn’t make you feel any better, but it matters to me. I wanted to date _you_ Stiles. There’s something special about you, and I’m just sorry I didn’t realize that sooner.” 

The fabric of Derek’s pants made a swishing noise as he stood up. 

“I found the allowance money on your bed. I never wanted you to feel like Julia Roberts in _Pretty Woman._ That’s why I let you go. I want you to be happy, Stiles, even if it’s not with me.” The clacking of his shoes faded away as he left the room. 

Stiles lied awake for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, Stiles was _not_ dreaming. Who expected Derek to show up??
> 
> Let's see . . . in an earlier draft, Stiles was going to date Liam. I axed that because it didn't feel right. 
> 
> And you finally got an answer about who Stiles replaced. I'm glad I don't have to sit on that one, anymore. :) 
> 
> Let me know what you guys think in the comments!! xx


	28. The Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has an interview.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know where to start with this one. I pushed this chapter out. Hard. 
> 
> I can't see this fic going beyond 30 chapters, mostly because I feel like I'm running out of story. (That means we're almost at the end.) I've re-written (in my head) the end several times. I'm just shitting my pants that you guys won't find it to be a satisfying conclusion, so I really REALLY hope you like it. 
> 
> I hope to have the next (last?) chapter out by the end of the weekend.

As Stiles headed out of Beacon Hills Elementary on a Friday, his phone rang. He sidestepped a group of kindergartners and answered the call.

“Mr. Stilinski, this is Daria Collins from the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County, and I’ve got your resume in front of me.”

Stiles’ heart began to pound as they worked out the details for an interview on Monday.

Hanging up the phone, Stiles felt lighter than air. The dream job finally gave him a call back. Now, all he had to do was knock their socks off in the interview.

Sunday, he flew down to LA. Thankfully, a friend was waiting to pick him up when he got there.

He spotted Heather’s little white BMW as soon as he stepped out of the building.

“It’s good to see you again,” Heather said once Stiles was settled.

“You too. Thank again for picking me up and letting me stay with you.”

“Of course! I’m glad you called. I was pretty surprised to hear that you moved out of the Mansion. I asked Derek about it, but he wouldn’t say much other than the fact that you left.”

“What did he say?” Stiles asked. His attention was more than a little piqued.

“Well, I called him about a week after the show we did for Paige because I wanted to talk to him about another charity event I was doing. I sort of casually asked how you were doing because I hadn’t talked to you, and Derek got quiet for a minute. Then he said you’d moved out. I thought I’d heard him wrong, so I asked him to repeat himself, and Derek said, ‘Stiles moved out of the Mansion last week.’ So I asked why, but all Derek said was ‘We broke up,’ and I left it at that. So, you’re killing me. What happened?”

Stiles heaved a sigh. He knew he would probably have to tell this story several more times before it was over. “The short version is that Derek asked me to move out because I didn’t want him to make Caitlin a Partner. I moved out that day. I guess he or someone told the paps I’d ‘chosen’ to move out, but I don’t know if he thought that would save me or him face.” He drew in a breath and prepared to ask the question he really wanted the answer to, even if it hurt. “ _Did_ Caitlin move into the Mansion?”

“Not that I know of. Since Jackson left, it’s just Derek and Lydia.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Stiles.” Heather glanced at him. “I know you were really in to him.”

Stiles shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m over it. Let’s talk about something exciting. I’ve got a job interview at the Natural History Museum!”

*

The next morning, Stiles got up early, took a shower, and dressed in his best suit. He was too nervous to eat, so he nurse a large cup of coffee instead.

Heather dropped him off fifteen minutes before he was supposed to be there. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and pushed him out the door. “Knock ‘em dead, Stiles!”

Taking a deep breath, Stiles marched into the museum. It felt oddly reminiscent of walking into Madame Tussaud’s for the first time, except this was the real deal.

He approached the information desk. “Could you tell me where I can find Daria Collins’ office, please?”

The man at the desk gave him an office number on the second floor. Stiles thanked him and headed for the elevator.

The director’s door was open, but Stiles knocked, anyway. “Ms. Collins? I’m Stanisław Stilinski.”

“Yes, Mr. Stilinski, please come in.”

They shook hands, and he took a seat in front of her desk.

Daria had a copy of Stiles’ resume in front of her, and she got right to the chase. She asked him questions about his education, his work experience. Stiles answered them the best he could, even if he found it odd to be answering questions about Madame Tussaud’s. Blanche, it turned out, had given him a glowing recommendation.

“Malia wasn’t kidding,” Daria murmured as she shuffled through papers on her desk.

“I beg your pardon?” Stiles said.

Daria glanced back up at him. “Malia Hale? She recommended you.”

Stiles forced a smile. “Of course. Malia’s a good friend of mine.”

“I just have one final question for you. Your name—is that Polish?”

“Yeah, but I usually just go by Stiles. Not many people can pronounce ‘Stanisław’ correctly.” He couldn’t tell where this was going.

“Do you speak Polish?”

“Yes. I speak it better than I write it, though.”

Daria smiled. “Originally, I’m from Nisko.”

“My family is from Nisko!”

“What a happy coincidence. Well, Stiles, thank you so much for coming in. I’ll be in touch.”

Stiles left the interview light on his feet. Daria hadn’t offered him a job just then, but he had a feeling he’d nailed it.

Heather told Stiles to call her when he was finished, but he decided to stop at Starbucks for another cup of coffee and a bagel. He ordered a venti white chocolate mocha and a plain bagel and took a seat by the window.

“Stiles Stilinski, bless my eyes.”

Stiles tipped his cup too quickly and burnt his tongue. Sputtering, he looked up at “Lydia! What are you doing here?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I live here. What are you doing here?”

Stiles hesitated. Anything he said to her would make its way back to Derek, and he didn’t want to risk that when he’d only just interviewed for his job. “Visiting Heather.”

Lydia pursed her lips. “You never returned my call. I understand that you were mad at Derek, but I’m not the one who dumped you. The least you could have done was let me know you were okay.”

Stiles winced. Rightfully so, he regretted putting Lydia through that. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but me leaving had nothing to do with you. I know you stuck up for me, and while I appreciate that, it did nothing to stop Derek from breaking up with me. For no reason. How is Caitlin enjoying the Mansion, by the way?”

“He never asked her to move in.”

"What about Jackson? Why did he move out?"

"He had his reasons. Mostly, he wanted to be someone's number one." Lydia crossed her arms over her chest. “Why didn’t you take that up with Derek when he came to see you in the hospital?”

“First of all,” Stiles said, “That was ridiculous. Second of all, I don’t owe Derek an explanation for not calling him back, and I certainly don’t owe you one.”

“I’m not the enemy, Stiles.”

“Your boyfriend broke my heart, and he knows it. Quit trying to make excuses for him.”

Lydia’s expression grew sad. “I moved out of the Mansion. Derek broke up with me.”

Stiles was caught off guard. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? Poor Derek. He’s all alone now. Excuse me while I don’t give a fuck.”

“Just talk to him.” Lydia turned on her heel and left Stiles to eat his bagel in peace.

Stiles had no intention of talking to Derek. He enjoyed his evening with Heather, flew back to Beacon Hills, and got on with his life.

*

Daria offered him the job two days later. Heather helped him find an apartment close to the Museum, and Stiles gave his notice at the elementary school.

Telling Liam had been harder than quitting his job. He knew Liam had feelings for him, no matter how hard his friend tried to deny it.

“Good luck, Stiles,” Liam had said, and then squeezed him into a tight hug.

 

“Are you sure about this, kid?” his dad asked as he loaded up the Jeep. “The first time didn’t work out so well.”

“I think I’m more prepared this time.” In all respects, he felt more confident than he had the first time he moved to Los Angeles. He had a job, for one thing. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. He promised himself this time would be different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is love. xx


	29. Black Tie Affair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles attends a fundraising event for the museum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, folks, this is it. I know I said before that this fic might be 30 chapters or more, but the way the end shaped up, this is what we've got. (The "extra" chapter I had planned was really stupid, anyway. lol)
> 
> But I must thank every single one of you for all the comments and cheerleading. Please know that I will be going back now and answering comments. Also know that in some ways, you guys helped shape this fic, so I really, REALLY hope this ending satisfies everyone. Here's to hope! 
> 
> *toasts*

Stiles loved working at the Natural History Museum. Every day, he got to go to work and talk to about important events and people from the past. His favorite visitors were the children. They would look at him with serious expressions on their little faces, and Stiles would squat down to hear their questions. 

“Were there dinosaurs in China?” one little boy asked earnestly. 

“Of course,” Stiles replied. Sure, why not? 

He grew close to his coworkers and still had time to meet Heather for lunch occasionally. Scott and Allison came down from time to time, too. Allison was the only Partner Stiles still spoke to. Lydia hadn’t tried to reach out again, and Stiles was okay with that. For his part, Stiles was happy to pretend the whole “Derek thing,” as he thought of it in his mind, had never happened. 

Only Malia’s recommendation still plagued him, but Daria brushed it off when Stiles asked. 

“She happened to mention your name the last time I saw her, and I remembered seeing your resume. It was hardly what got you the job, if that’s what you’re wondering.” 

Stiles had been wondering, and Daria’s words allowed him to breath a sigh of relief. 

*

The Museum held fundraiser the following month, a real black tie affair. Part of Stiles felt a sense of déjà vu as he dressed in his tux. This time, however, he drove to the convention center in his Jeep and walked in alone. There was no red carpet, no paparazzi. 

Stiles relaxed by increments. Inside, the atmosphere was calm, yet professional. His only task was to speak kindly and honestly to would-be donors. Without their generosity, the museum wouldn’t be made possible. 

At first, Stiles hung around the fringes of the conversation sipping a sparkling water. Then, he spotted Daria. 

“Good evening, Stiles. I’m so glad you could make it.” 

Stiles rolled his shoulders inside the jacket he wore. “I’m not very good at these kinds of things, but I wanted to be here to show my support. After all, you gave me a job.” 

He smiled politely and shook hands as Daria introduced him to person after person Stiles was sure he wouldn’t remember if he saw them again after this night. He repeated that he was a new member of the staff, and yes, he was very excited to promote the museum. 

The night wore on, but Stiles felt like he belonged. For once, he was on equal footing with the other people in the room. 

After drinking several glasses of sparkling water, Stiles excused himself from the group he was talking to. He used the bathroom and washed his hands. Another gentleman was coming into the room as Stiles left, and he paused to hold the door. 

“Thanks.” 

The other man looked up, and Stiles’ stomach dropped. He was looking into Derek’s hazel eyes. “I had no idea you were going to be here tonight.” 

“I’m a patron of the museum.” Derek gave him a tight smile and continued in to the bathroom. 

Stiles let the door close between them, but his heart was still pounding. He never imagined he’d see his ex here, but it made sense. Of course Derek Hale would be a patron of the museum, because that’s how Stiles’ life worked. 

He planted himself with his back against a far wall so he could see when Derek came back into the room. In a black tux with a grey vest underneath, Derek looked every bit the media mogul Stiles had left behind. Yet, he also appeared drawn. Stiles chalked it up to being single for the first time in who knew how long. Derek gave no indication that he knew Stiles was watching him. 

It took Stiles the better part of an hour to gather enough courage to approach him. He waited until Derek was standing alone before he moved. 

“Hey, Derek.” 

When he realized it was Stiles speaking to him, Derek’s eyes went wide. “Stiles. I’m surprised to see you here.” 

Stiles returned a wolfish grin. “Well, I work at the Museum, so it was kind of a given.” He paused, waiting to hear something about Malia. 

“Congratulations,” Derek said. His tone was earnest. “I remember you saying you wanted to work there.” 

“Malia recommended me,” Stiles blurted. 

“Did she? Good for you.” 

The self-righteous anger was draining out of Stiles’ chest. “It is. I’m really, really happy there. How are you? How are things at the magazine?” 

“Good, good. Paige’s issue was really successful. We’re having a good year.” 

“That’s good.” Stiles shuffled his feet. “I talked to Lydia. Ran into her, actually. She told me you guys broke up.” 

Derek nodded. “I haven’t been in a good place . . . “

Inwardly, Stiles snorted. 

“ . . . since my parents passed, and I thought it would be better for Lydia and I to cool things off.” 

“Oh,” Stiles said tightly. Not quite the explanation he had been anticipating. “The Mansion must be empty without all of us. It felt weird enough to me after Allison left.” 

“Actually, I moved out of the Mansion.” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“I bought a condo on the beach. Breaking up with Lydia sort of made me realize that I’d been hiding my grief all these years.” 

Stiles held up a hand. “Your parents didn’t practice polyamory.” 

“No.” Derek winced. “I guess I thought that if I moved back into the Mansion and surround myself with beautiful people, I would somehow smooth over the hurt. But all I did was push people away.” 

Stiles couldn’t argue with that. He only had one more question. “What happened with Caitlin?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Why didn’t you ask her to move in?” 

Derek fumbled for an answer. “Right after you moved out—“

“After you kicked me out.” 

“Jackson and I started having problems, and bringing another Partner into that situation wouldn’t have been fair.” 

A full confession, then. 

Satisfied, Stiles accepted it. 

“Are you seeing anyone?” Derek asked. 

“Not at the moment.” Stiles thought briefly of Liam. Oh, how he wished he could say yes. “I’ve just been really busy with work and moving.” 

Their conversation came to a lull with Derek’s nod. 

“Well,” Stiles said. He’d clearly run out of steam. “Good to see you, I guess.” 

“Take care.” 

Stiles walked away, allowing Derek to fold into the other guests. 

*

Following the party, thoughts of Derek still occupied Stiles’ mind. He thought he had rid himself of all feelings concerning his ex, but seeing Derek at the fundraiser had just made it worse. 

Stiles looked in vain for mention of the _Halefire_ playboy on the cover of supermarket tabloids. Derek really had faded from the public eye, and if he was dating someone, he kept it tightly under wraps. 

Talking to Allison and Scott was no help, either. Allison didn’t know any more than Stiles, and Scott advised him to “try going on a few dates” to clear his head. 

He’d had some offers, but like Liam, Stiles just didn’t feel any sparks. 

Finally, he picked up the phone and called Derek. 

“Hey,” he said, drawing out the word. “This is Stiles.” 

Derek was quiet for a minute. “I know. I never deleted your number from my phone.” 

Unsure how to take that, Stiles plowed on. “So I know this is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, and I know I’m going to regret it, but . . . Do you think we could give it another go? Dating, I mean. We can start from the beginning and just sort of take it slow. See where it goes. No Partners, and definitely no moving in together before the first date.” He held his breath as he waited for the answer. Even if it all blew up in his face, he had to _try._

“Stiles . . . “ Derek sucked in a breath. “I can’t promise anything. I can’t promise that I won’t date or won’t want to date other people. I can’t promise that any of this will last. I fucked up pretty bad last time, and I can’t imagine why you’d want to give it another go, not that I’m turning you down. I love you, Stiles. I never stopped. But I need you to know that there’s no guarantee I can give you that it will work.” 

Stiles could hear the blood rushing in his ears. His mind was saying _wait_ , but his heart was screaming _please_. “I think that’s fair, Derek. You’re only human, after all.” And so was he. 

Stiles might regret this in the future, but that was better than constantly wondering what might have happened between them, given the right climate. Stiles knew he was in a better place, and he hoped Derek was, too. At lest now, Stiles had the space to figure out Derek’s place in _his_ life. Maybe now they could make it work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading this novel-length fic. This was a testament to my own ability to write something over 50k. I couldn't have done it without my readers, my friends, and most especially, my beta, Naemi. 
> 
> You guys are the absolute best. 
> 
> In case you're curious, the original ending had Jackson leaving, then Lydia, and Stiles was basically "last man standing," but I scrapped that for obvious reasons. 
> 
> Hopefully, I'd like to go back and finish Beacon Hills En Pointe after this, but I also plan to focus more on my original fic. You can find me under the name "Moit Miller," if you're curious. I'm on Tumblr and Twitter @moitmiller, for what that's worth. 
> 
> Also: Please be aware that I will be Archive-locking this fic by the end of the week to keep it safe from Internet robots. (Yes, I'm serious.) 
> 
> Thanks again for reading this. You guys are absolutely amazing. I couldn't have done it without you. xx


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